


The Skaia Pages

by tigger89



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drama, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Original Character-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 46
Words: 102,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25073470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigger89/pseuds/tigger89
Summary: An all-human fanventure featuring a cast of original characters venturing into a familiar setting. This has been written to appeal to both existing fans and those who have never read Homestuck before(see preface for details). The tone of this fic is a YA drama set in a world of fantasy adventure. This fic contains no cherubs or trolls, but is heavy on planet locations, quests, classpect exploration, and also spends a fair bit of time on the carapacians(what's their deal?)
Kudos: 6





	1. Preface

I started reading Homestuck shortly before the Gigapause went into effect, in 2013. This work was originally conceived of during the tail end of the Gigapause, and first drafted during the Omegapause. It has since been written, and re-written, and I'm tired of re-working this so I'm just going to post the damn thing. This work is designed to be understood both by existing fans of Homestuck and those who may never have heard of it. Read on for more information about that, or scroll down to the bottom of this chapter for content warnings.

**Regarding covid-19/BLM:**

I began this latest draft in December 2019, with the intent to share serially in summer 2020(July 5th, the date the world ends). When covid-19 hit this spring, I made the decision to continue my draft as if it was not present in the world I was writing. As events continued to spiral, including the BLM protests of the past month, the distance between the world we inhabit and the world my characters inhabit continued to grow. It might be hard, but try to put yourself back in the shoes of somebody who'd never had to practice social distancing, who may have been to a few protests but not anything like what we've been seeing. Suspend that disbelief, I know you can do it. If it helps, we won't be spending long in the real world.

**A note on character age:**

All characters in this work are original. They're also aged older than the traditional group of players, starting the game the summer before their senior year of high school. Consequently, all characters are 17 or 18 at the time the story begins. This age up was partially because I feel bad hurting younger teens, partially because older teens are more interesting for me to write, and yeah, also to make sure they were above the age of squick. Even though there's no explicit sexual scenes in this story, it can still be weird to even just write(or read) a fade to black.

**For existing Homestuck fans:**

There are two warnings I will give existing fans of the series. First, as I said above, this work has its roots in the older fandom. Some of my headcanons, especially with regard to Class and Aspect, are going to be very different from current fandom knowledge. Funny enough, a few of my headcanons turned out to be validated by the ending of the story(specifically some things I'd written regarding the Space Aspect), which was pretty exciting. I ask that you please bear with me, and not come yelling at me because this zodiac quiz from 2017 says that a prince of blood should be like this but you wrote it like that and HOW DARE YOU?! I'll be sharing my thoughts on Classpects in notes as the story moves along, and I ask that we all be respectful and remember not to turn our respective canons into cannons.

I have also made a few deliberate changes to how systems work, mainly in order to adapt a visual comic to a text-only medium. For example, item cards and sylladexes aren't a thing(and alchemy has been adjusted and streamlined), because I want my characters to just be able to pick things up and carry them around without wasting thousands of words describing every little fiddly act. Another big change I made was removing ectobiological relations, because it was seriously cramping my shipping style. I'll do my best to note when I've made these changes.

**For those who have never read Homestuck:**

Don't. At least, not unless someone who knows you suggests it to you personally. It's not for everybody, and is very rooted in late-00s internet culture. Luckily, I've written this keeping in mind the fact that readers might not be familiar with the source material. Here's what you have to know: a group of teens play a video game which allows them to escape earth as the apocalypse looms, then a bunch of things happen, and everybody dates each other forever. Ignore anything you've ever seen online about trolls/weird gray humans with horns, because they're not in this story.

The one other thing you should know before reading is the concept of a Classpect. This is sort of like a class in a RPG, comprised of two factors: the Class and the Aspect. The Aspect is like a sphere of influence, and there are twelve of them each associated with a symbol. In order left to right starting from the top left in [this image](https://i.imgur.com/lucxskL.jpg), we have: breath, light, time, space, mind, heart, life, void, hope, doom, blood and rage. The Class dictates how you interact with your Aspect, and in a more meta sense your role in the story. The twelve main Classes are: thief, rogue, heir, maid, page, knight, seer, mage, sylph, witch, bard and prince. Master classes(muse and lord) will not be used in this story, and neither will the concept of gender-locked classes.

**Content Warnings:**

Content warnings appear below, with vague descriptions. Warnings may also appear at the start of certain chapters if applicable. I'm willing to answer questions about specifics or matters that I haven't thought to mention here, just shoot me a private message.

Major Character Death: this might not be what you think. Or maybe it's exactly what you think. Characters will suffer and face their mortality, and we might even be inside their heads while this is happening. I make no promises about anybody making it out alive.

Misgendering: a non-binary character is misgendered on several occasions. Most are cleared up quickly and respectfully, but one character persists in misgendering the NB character. This conflict is ultimately addressed and resolved.

Racism(anti-asian)/sexism: a korean character is mistreated and talked down to by another character because of assumptions based on ethnicity and gender. This is addressed and resolved.

Sexual Assault: a character is creeped on and kissed without consent. This is addressed and resolved, and the chapter containing the incident will also have a warning.

Neglectful Parenting: There are multiple depictions and recollections of neglectful and otherwise poor parenting/guardianship.

Substance Use/Abuse: Primarily alcohol and marijuana, but brief tobacco as well.


	2. Kayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 1 of 12

** Act 1 **

I pulled the fabric of my shirt away from the small of my back, willing the air conditioner rattling away in my window to blow harder. It didn’t. I missed my old house, back in the Carolinas. Sure, it was further south, and it was just as swampy come early July. But something about being out in the country, rather than here in this claustrophobic, stinking city, had made the worst parts of summer more tolerable.

So why would a girl like me leave a place like that? Well, the problem with small towns is there’s no opportunity. My biology teacher said I was smart, with a real potential to do great things. But I’d never reach that potential stuck in that dinky little town. When she passed me the internship application for the National Aquarium, I filled it out and mailed it off mostly as a curiosity to see if I had what it takes.

I never expected to actually succeed, let alone find a way to make the logistics work. I mean, it was out of state. Like, really out of state. North of DC. There was no way I could commute that, and seventeen-almost-eighteen wasn’t old enough yet to live by myself. But my father somehow found out about the whole thing, and intercepted my letter declining their offer. Apparently, we were moving to the city, because it would be a shame to let such an opportunity pass me by.

As smelly, loud and nerve-wracking as the city is, I was glad for the chance to learn. It was also nice to be around other people like me. I was adopted, and the town we lived in wasn’t exactly a picture of diversity, if you get what I mean. I was literally the only person living there with a complexion that couldn’t be described as some shade of peach or fair. But here, I’m one among many. I got my hair braided last week at a salon by someone who actually knew what she was doing. For me, that’s kind of a big deal.

The internship was going well, too. I was learning so much, trailing behind “backstage” as full employees took care of the various aquatic creatures housed in the giant tanks. Sometimes I was even allowed to help. The octopus was my favorite. They’re supposed to be really intelligent, you know. There’s one who’s a bit of an escape artist, and sometimes you’ll get there in the morning and find that he’s slipped his tank again. It usually took two big guys to wrangle him back in, and then he just sat there, tapping his tentacle against the side of the tank like a promise.

It wasn’t all work and no play, of course. Especially not today. It was my day off, and I had all the plans to meet up with some of my internet friends. I’d met Dan, from over on the west coast, and Natalya, from Russia, on an adoption support message board a few years back. Alex came by way of Dan, an even older gaming friend of his who’d managed to worm their way into our circle.

Natalya had found the game. It wasn’t my cup of tea really, some “AR” adventure rpg called Sburb, but the three of them were really excited about it. Alex especially had been giving me grief lately about being too busy and cool to hang out anymore, so against my better judgment I’d promised to play with them, and had been given a spot on the four-man team. I’d be providing “server player” utility for Alex, whatever that meant. And whenever Natalya was around, she’d do the same for me.

At least, that was the plan in theory. In reality, my part in it was being thwarted by an internet connection that kept flickering in and out, no matter how many times I reset the router. I’d managed to connect to Alex, but the view just spun on a blank screen, trying endlessly to establish a stable connection. I pulled up the chat, typing out a quick message. That, at least, still seemed to be working.

 **ScholarAquatic:** I’m having some trouble with my internet. I’m supposed to be able to see you now, but I can’t get it to stay connected long enough for the picture to show up.  
**BerettasRevenge:** it knows im a fucking mess  
**BR:** doesnt want to look at me  
**SA:** Well, it’s your own fault. Nobody made you stay out all night partying.  
**BR:** but i had to celebrate independence with explosions and booze  
**BR:** fuck yeah usa  
**SA:** That would have a much bigger impact if you weren’t staring at your phone blearily, wishing you were dead, or at least collected enough to drag your sorry butt out of bed and into a shower.  
**BR:** i thought you said the picture wasnt working  
**SA:** It’s not. But I know you.  
**BR:** fuck  
**SA:** Look, I don’t know if I can get this to work. But there’s one thing I can try. It’ll take a while, but as long as the disruption isn’t city-wide I should be able to get online. I hope.  
**BR:** ok  
**BR:** ill play with dan while i wait  
**SA:** Alright, I’ll talk to you soon.

One of the perks of my internship was free admission and, of course, a key card that granted me access to staff areas. As reluctant as I was to go back to my place of work on my day off, I didn’t see much other choice. Being the day after a holiday, admission should be low, so hopefully I could find a quiet corner to play games in. The place would be better air-conditioned, too. Jotting a quick note for my father, I gathered some snacks and my laptop into a backpack and left the apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the lack of physical description. It turns out it's really hard to describe characters in first person when they're by themselves. I consider it a victory that we managed to walk away from this introduction knowing that Kayla is in fact not a white chick. You'll just have to pretend you're one of her internet friends and find out all the details later on!
> 
> Something a beta reader mentioned to me is that it's very helpful to keep a note file where you write down the characters' names and chat handles, so I suggest that during these rapid-fire introductions. We've got a lot of characters to cover and not that many chapters to do it in!


	3. Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 2 of 12

I shuffled the cards, absentmindedly dealing to myself while I waited for someone, anyone, to shoot me a message. Ten and two, hit on twelve, six, makes eighteen. Not great, man. I tucked the cards back into the deck, shuffling it a couple times before dealing again. Queen and six, risk it? Sure, why not. And four makes twenty, better! But still not the best.

I shuffled and dealt again, eight and seven. Hit. As the jack fell down atop the pile I groaned, pressing my palm against my forehead. That was a bust. Just because it was literally the luck of the draw didn’t make it suck any less. But the blackjack continued to elude me. At least chat was flashing, so someone wanted me. I gathered the cards back up and set them aside, leaning over my laptop where it sat on the coffee table.

 **BerettasRevenge:** you around  
**ElectronicDealer:** Yeah, what’s up?  
**BR:** meh  
**ED:** Did Kayla get your game set up?  
**BR:** sorta  
**BR:** but her internet isnt working right  
**BR:** im supposed to connect with you while i wait  
**ED:** Ok, that’s cool  
**ED:** Just flipping cards around here, family’s out so I’m pretty bored  
**ED:** Tell me what to do

Following Alex’s directions, I got my game hooked up with my best bro as my server player. This was the plan, to make a player chain that would allow all four of us to play together. I’d connect to Nat in turn when she got online, and then she’d connect back to Kayla to complete the loop. Simple, elegant, and all going to fall to pieces if Kayla couldn’t get her internet working properly. But that was a problem for future us to deal with.

 **BR:** ok i see you  
**BR:** whats your weapon

Man, Alex was even more terse than usual. Their head must really be killing them, not surprising at all after last night’s Fourth of July festivities. I’d gotten all the drunk texts, chronicling the evolution from beer to jell-o shots to tequila, at which point coherency and camera aim had dropped so low I’d lost track of what was being drunk. But hey, nobody had blown any fingers off that I knew of, so I counted that as a win.

I wanted to make Alex laugh, though. I knew the dude had it in them, even in the depths of tequila regret, and no matter if it was followed up by an “f you, man!” It would be worth it. Because what else were bros for, right?

 **ED:** My weapon?  
**ED:** Dude, let me tell you  
**ED:** I’m quick on the draw  
**ED:** Face, ace, number or jester, it doesn’t matter  
**BR:** uh  
**ED:** For I am the great electronic dealer, I flow with the beat  
**ED:** I play the hand fate gives me, good fortune or bad  
**ED:** Behold, my weapon of choice

With a flourish, I picked up the deck of cards, fanning them dramatically in front of my face. As I struck my pose, I realized I didn’t know where the camera in the game would be, so I made sure I turned around the entire living room. After I was certain a good shot had been secured, I pressed the cards back into a stack, sitting back down to check the chat.

 **BR:** oh shit  
**BR:** you fucked up  
**ED:** What do you mean?  
**BR:** you have to fight monsters with that

My heart sunk as I realized what I’d just done. Of course weapons would need to be valid in a fight. Why had the game had even accepted something so ridiculous? I couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of abysmal damage stats a stack of fifty-four laminated cards would have.

 **ED:** How am I supposed to fight with a deck of cards?  
**BR:** i dont know man  
**BR:** you tell me  
**ED:** Can we change it?  
**BR:** no  
**BR:** button is grayed out now  
**ED:** Well that sucks

I set the cards down on the table, my attempt at a goofy joke dead in the water. What’s done is done, so there’s no sense in getting upset over it now. I’d figure something out. Maybe I could get really good at kiting and bring all the enemies to Alex for an ambush, or something. Yeah, one way or another we’d make it work.

I followed the rest of the game setup process with minimal joking around. Alex used their controls to move the sofas and table out of the way, to allow for the game equipment to be deployed. They dropped the Cruxtruder, a big capped tube with a wheel on it, and the Alchemiter, a round platform with an attached control panel, in the now-open space in front of the TV. I climbed on up and turned the wheel, which required more strength than I’d expected. But the top of the tube popped open, revealing a floating ball that pulsed, quickly enough to give me a headache.

 **BR:** what is that  
**ED:** I think that’s the kernel, remember it was in the trailer?  
**ED:** You put something in it, and it changes the type of game you’re going to play  
**BR:** oh yeah  
**BR:** what do i put in it  
**ED:** Whatever looks fun  
**ED:** You could pick a movie, or something  
**BR:** ok  
**BR:** i put the card on the thing

The card on the thing? I looked around, spotting an old-fashioned punch card sitting on top of the Alchemiter. I picked it up, walking over to the control panel and inserting the card into the waiting slot. The Alchemiter beeped once, and the display updated to inform me that it would cost zero “grist” to use the card. That was great, because I didn’t even know what “grist” was, let alone if I had any. I pushed the big red button.

The machine beeped again, and a flat, round disk appeared in the center of the platform. No, not a disk. Man, that was a vinyl record! How hipster was this game? I picked it up, feeling the weight and solid stiffness of it. Well, this was a record if records were made out of crystal rock. I wondered if it would still play? My parents had an old record player, so I decided I’d try it out.

Leaving Alex to their own devices picking out an appropriate theme, I made my way down the short flight of stairs into the den. I probably should have told them to be careful what movie they picked, because there was a very tempting shelf packed full of Korean-language dramas, a language nobody but my parents spoke here. Hoping Alex would think it through for once before making a selection, I settled the record into place, switching the player on before I dropped the needle into the groove. Huh, there were no beats, sick or otherwise. Just a kind of heavy white noise. That was disappointing, but not totally surprising. I hadn’t actually expected a record made out of crystal to be able to play anything.

I reached for the off switch, but lurched forward instead as the earth bucked beneath me. Here we go! I abandoned the record, moving toward the center of the room as the earthquake began in earnest. It’s Cali, what are you gonna do? Sometimes the earth just decides its gonna try to shake you to death, and all there is to do is ride it out. With one final great shudder, the quake subsided.

As I picked myself up off the floor, I realized the room was dark now. Had the power gone out? No, I hadn’t even turned on the light, because the windows lit the room well enough. But it was dark outside now, like midnight dark. Talk about unsettling. This must be it, though. I was inside the game. There was no other explanation as to how noon had turned to night in a matter of moments.

As I started back towards the living room, I heard a quiet, fearful voice call my name.

“Danny?”

No! No, no, no, this wasn’t happening. I leapt up the stairs, rounding the corner into the living room, where the very last person I wanted to see crouched between the devices, dark pigtails quivering as she huddled with her arms clasped tight around her knees. Why was Mimi home? She was supposed to be at the park with Mom all day! Sburb was no place for a four-year-old to be playing.

I stepped over a fallen lamp, catching my little sister in a hug. She sniffed, grasping my arm. Mom must have dropped her off back home before running errands, or something. I pulled my laptop around where I could see it, checking the messages Alex had left while I was in the den.

 **BR:** ok i put in infinity war  
**BR:** should be fun  
**BR:** dan your sisters home  
**BR:** is that an earthquake  
**BR:** fucking shit are you ok  
**ED:** Yeah  
**ED:** This is messed up  
**BR:** youre telling me  
**BR:** fuuuuck  
**BR:** i need a smoke  
**ED:** Go  
**ED:** I don’t think you can help us right now  
**BR:** ok  
**BR:** tell k ill be back  
**BR:** if she shows up  
**ED:** I will, talk to you later

This was no good, but much like Alex, I couldn’t do anything to fix it now. There was no getting off this train until the end of the line, when we beat the game. All I could do for now was protect her, be her big brother. And that’s exactly what I intended to do, no matter what this game threw at us. I’d be ready, and I’d keep my sister safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I removed cruxite dowels. Sorry if they were your favorite part. (They were nobody's favorite part.) The Totem Lathe is no more, the Cruxtruder only exists to facilitate game entry/setup, and the Alchemiter handles the actual alchemy. Don't worry, fancy alchemy is still possible.


	4. Yana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 3 of 12

I covered my mouth to stifle my giggles, pressing my shoulders back against the pile of pillows at the head of my bed. This was too good. Who would’ve thought augmented reality had come so far? Well, it was some proprietary tech called “actual reality,” if you wanted to be pedantic, but pedantry was boring. But this game? Anything but.

I let myself slip back into the groove, dancing in place to the beat of my music as I watched my friend set his feet, taking careful aim like Babe Ruth getting ready to hit the world series, or some other appropriate baseball metaphor. Man, I hope the way I have to enter doesn’t have anything to do with sports. It’s supposed to be something personalized for you, so maybe I’ll get something I’m good at, like hacking. A girl can hope, right?

For Greg, it couldn’t have been anything but baseball. Well, or possibly something to do with the air force. He hadn’t shut up about his recruiter since they’d first talked last year, the guy was obsessed. I’d chucked one of his stupid posters into the kernel to shut him up, so according to the chatter online we were going to have a military campaign now. Whatever, I’m up for it. He might not be though, if the number of attempts(and broken windows!) it was taking him to hit that home run was any indication.

I pulled up my playlist, queuing a few more songs while I waited. Digging through the depths of my mp3 folder, I didn’t see exactly what happened, but I sure saw the flash. The entire viewscreen was lit up like the brilliantly deadly aftermath of something atomic. I fumbled with the chat, muttering curses at myself for not paying better attention. Had we lost already?

**CriticalGuru:** Are you ok?  
 **CG:** What happened?  
 **CaptainWalker:** I think I won the game…

I snorted, relief crashing down on me as I watched the viewscreen clear, revealing Greg, intact, sitting at the edge of his bed typing to me.

**CG:** Hardly.  
 **CG:** You’re just getting started!  
 **CG:** You’re in the medium now, which is the game world.  
 **CG:** Now connect back to me so we can play together.  
 **CW:** One sec  
 **CW:** It won’t connect, says there’s a firewall error

What? I frowned, tugging my earbuds out to think better, No Doubt reduced to a tinny sound buried in my hoodie. The firewall had been working just fine to connect as his server, but it must be different for the client connection. Shit! Bypassing the firewall would mean a physical trip down to the mainframe, like in actual meatspace, but there wasn’t any other way.

**CG:** I’ll fix it.  
 **CG:** Wait for me!

I tucked the laptop under my arm, slinging the strap of my trusty Garand over my shoulder as I climbed my ladder. Swinging the door open into the hallway above, I wrinkled my nose. Everything was so boring and clinical out here, all metal and rubber. Some of us like fluffy things, okay Mom? I resolved to get this over with as quickly as possible, swinging the door to my room shut as I set off down the hallway, letting my socks slide over the metal floor for maximum speed around the corner.

It wasn’t just laziness that kept me in the upper levels. The mainframe was housed past the hydroponics bay, and that place always freaked me out. I knew for a fact that some of those plants were carnivorous, and I don’t know what was in the water, but they grew huge down there. I had no desire to wind up digested by some mutant venus people-trap, so I avoided the general area on principle. There was no getting around it today, though. I was going in.

Taking a deep breath, I spun the wheel and swung the door open. Warm, earthy air with just a tinge of something unnatural lurking beneath wafted out into the hallway. I stepped inside, keeping my eyes on the narrow path ahead as the walls of green loomed over me. It was just vegetables, I reminded myself, flinching away as a narrow leaf brushed my arm. Just vegetables, and a few mad science experiments. Nothing to worry about. If anything tried to eat me, I’d shoot it right in the freaky leaf maw until it backed off. Yeah, that was a plan.

Reaching the far side of the room, I spun the wheel as hard as it could go. It reached its terminal position with an angry clank and I yanked the door open, slipping out of the garden and shoving it closed behind me. I didn’t want to think about the return trip. Maybe I’d just play the game from in here.

I shivered, the cold, dry air a stark contrast to the moist warmth of the room I’d just left. I made my way through the racks of blinking servers, looking for the main terminal. There was way more hardware down here than seemed necessary to keep this place running, and I’d always wondered what it was all for. That wasn’t the point of today’s visit, though. I ducked under a bundle of cables hanging between the racks, slipping into the familiar cushioned chair as I set my laptop up next to the workspace.

The terminal was retro-futuristic, like something a science fiction writer from the 50s might have dreamed up. One large screen was in front of me, with three smaller displays running down each vertical side. The keyboard was loud, mechanical clacks echoing each time I struck a key. Oh, and there was no mouse. Command line all the way, baby. I’d taught myself how to use it all on my own, with hours spent poring over error messages and man pages. And I was good. Maybe not as good as Mom, but I knew my way around the system.

The first step was getting in. I didn’t have an access code for the mainframe, of course. Like that was going to stop me. It was our little game, where I’d find little exploits around Mom’s controls and she’d patch up each hole I found. There was always another way in though, as long as I was smart enough to find it.

I was a bit disappointed to see that last week’s hack still worked today. You’re losing your touch, Mom. Now I was in the main system control, but the firewall was a whole other beast. I’d never had to tangle with it before, and I have to admit part of me was thrilled at the challenge. This was going to be fun. But before I could begin, a flashing amber light on the panel next to the keyboard drew my attention.

I moved my laptop, revealing the handwritten label, scrawled in Mom’s disastrous handwriting: “001B04: гибель.” Doom. Well, that sounded ominous as hell. I tapped the hex reference into the terminal and hit execute. The cursor blinked a few times as the mainframe processed my request, then the command log vanished, replaced by a flickering image. I frowned, leaning closer to the screen. Coordinates, dates and times flickered across the screen as I navigated the display, then I sat back hard in the chair, my eyes wide as I stared at the words on the screen.

“Oh, shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, Yana is not named after anybody I have ever known in real life. Yana the character existed before I met that most uncommonly-named person, and I picked her name off a baby name list online. Coincidences, y'all! They're scary sometimes.
> 
> Yes, she used the term "meatspace" unironically. Apparently nobody has told her it's not 1998 anymore. I bet she also says ROFLMAO and asks for your A/S/L.


	5. Greg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 4 of 12

I closed my eyes, feeling the heavy, humid air against my face. It moved sluggishly, like it wanted to blow but couldn’t quite get off the couch. Above, bright sunlight filtered through a dense canopy, casting shadows on the carpet of ferns that covered the ground below. In the distance, I could hear the call of some kind of animal, a harsh yet melodic squawking.

I turned away from my window, leaving it open. I paced across my room, tapping my baseball bat against my leg. I didn’t like this, having to stand around and wait. I wanted to be accomplishing something, playing this game we’d spent months prepping for. I had an entire land out there to explore, but I couldn’t. I had to sit here, inside, waiting for Yana to fix her damn firewall.

I really hate waiting.

Another trip around the room and I was back at my bed, leaning over the laptop. There was still no message from her, though another friend had messaged me.

 **CulinaryArtisan:** Hey how’s it going?  
**CA:** You playing with Yana yet?  
**CaptainWalker:** Trying to  
**CW:** I’m in the game, but she had some kind of firewall problem, so we’re stuck  
**CA:** Lame!  
**CA:** I’m making breakfast  
**CW:** It’s half past noon…  
**CA:** Yeah  
**CA:** You know A’s not up yet though  
**CA:** Gotta time this by reality, not the clock  
**CA:** Anyway, gotta go, the pan’s hot  
**CA:** Good luck with getting all that figured out, and let me know how it goes!  
**CW:** Will do, talk to you later

I was so bored. This sucked! I huffed, running impatient fingers through my light brown hair as I stared at my computer screen, specifically the chat log with Yana that still wasn’t flashing. This launch was kind of a big deal. There were teams all over the world already playing, competing for world first clears. I wasn’t fooling myself that we’d manage to be one of the top competitors, but it was driving me crazy knowing just how far behind we were falling.

I switched tabs to one of the sites I’d spent the morning refreshing in anticipation, browsing down the lists of conversations. Some people were swapping strategies, others complaining about their “sprites,” whatever those were, and some poor players were still looking for a group. I opened that last thread, contemplating posting my own reply as I scrolled down. Wanted: somebody who actually knows how to work a firewall. Please reply soon.

The hypothetical snark fled my mind as I reached the bottom of the thread, where all the new posts waited to be voted up to the top or banished down into oblivion. There, a simple plea drew my eyes, capturing my attention with just a few sentences. The heart emoji signed at the end was like the tip of the spear, penetrating all my plans.

Her username was NascentKinesia, and she was from Tokyo. It was a straightforward request, all she wanted was a team to play with. I checked the time stamp, and despite the time difference the post had only gone up a few minutes previously. Apparently, she was a night owl. I was seriously considering this, I realized. And why not? Most teams were running with four to six players. Having a third would only boost our chances. We could set it up like the loop the other teams used, and when Yana was ready to connect I’d just have this girl bring her in. It would work out just fine. Besides, it wasn’t like Yana was here to object.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I replied, posting my contact details and saying I’d be happy to loop her in. I didn’t have to wait long, as apparently at least one girl out there on the internet was punctual. Her reply came over chat in a matter of minutes.

 **NascentKinesia:** hello?  
**CaptainWalker:** Don’t you mean konnichiwa?  
**NK:** i speak english. do you speak japanese?  
**CW:** No…  
**NK:** then let’s speak english. :)  
**NK:** hello.  
**CW:** Hi

Awkward.

 **CW:** I’m Greg, what’s your name?  
**NK:** pak miyong.  
**CW:** It’s nice to meet you, Pak  
**NK:** miyong. pak is my family name.  
**CW:** Oh  
**CW:** Sorry

God, what was wrong with me? Stop screwing this up, Walker. You’re not usually this pathetic. Get yourself together, stop sucking so much, and be this girl’s hero already.

 **CW:** It’s a pretty name  
**CW:** So let’s get you connected so you can start playing, right?  
**NK:** okay sure.

I cleared out Yana’s information from my server client, inputting the details Miyong supplied instead, and initiated the connection. A moment later, I was looking at a cramped, dimly-lit bedroom. A thin girl sat at a desk, wrapped in some kind of kimono robe thing. The entire room was decorated in shades of pink and white, with little anime statues lining the shelves. Yup, this was Japan alright.

 **CW:** Hey, I see you  
**NK:** what???

She looked around, covering her mouth with a slender hand, hot pink fingertips curling against her chin. As she turned, I saw her black chin-length hair, and her large dark eyes in her heart-shaped face. She was cute. Nervous too, it looked like.

 **CW:** It’s alright, it’s part of the game  
**CW:** You should go get your weapon ready  
**CW:** While you do that, let me find a place to set up the game stuff

I moved the camera out into the living room, discovering quickly that it was really the only room that didn’t have a bed or a toilet in it.

 **CW:** Wow, your apartment is really small  
**NK:** it’s just me and my dad.  
**CW:** Yeah, but you just have a bathroom, bedrooms, and then one room with everything else  
**NK:** that’s normal here.  
**CW:** Well I’m going to need to move some stuff around, can I put it in your dad’s room?  
**NK:** sure.

I grabbed the table, stacking it carefully in the other bedroom. Now there was space. I deployed the Cruxtruder, but couldn’t find a way to fit the giant alchemy platform. Tapping the controls, I realized I had a lot of vertical options. While most of the building was blacked out, and the hallways far too narrow, there was one obvious place.

After I dropped the Alchemiter, I moved back down to the apartment, where Miyong was now in the living room. Wait, why was she climbing the furniture? I zoomed out, angling the camera so it showed the wall. She kneeled on top of a narrow table, reaching up to take down a pair of antique-looking short swords from the wall.

 **NK:** okay, i have them.  
**CW:** Swords, cool

I watched as the game assigned her the weapon class 2xswordkind. Very ninja.

 **CW:** Alright, that’s done  
**CW:** Now you’ll need to head up to the alchemy platform  
**CW:** There wasn’t space in here, so I put it up on the roof  
**CW:** I’ll handle your kernel while you work on the entry item

I figured she probably couldn’t open it herself. She looked so delicate, like she might snap in two trying to get that sticky wheel to turn. I picked up a sturdy-looking knickknack and took aim at the lid. If I pitched it just right…there! The lid popped off, releasing a familiar flashing ball of light. I realized she still hadn’t left the room, standing there with her phone and an annoyed expression on her face.

 **NK:** all the way up there?  
**NK:** really?  
**CW:** Sorry, there wasn’t space  
**CW:** The things are big, and you have to admit this building is very cramped  
**CW:** Just ride the elevator up most of the way, then it looks like you can take a flight of stairs up  
**NK:** fine.

She didn’t look fine. She looked upset, and maybe a little bit afraid. Was she scared of heights? I couldn’t do anything about it now, as moving the devices around now would require more grist than the tiny amount the game gave me to start with. I watched helplessly as she tucked her tarnished swords away in her kimono’s deep pockets, unsure of what to say as she left the apartment and headed for the elevator.

My chat was flashing again, but this time it wasn’t Miyong. It was Yana. Well, I was going to have this conversation at some point, so might as well get it over with. It was better just to come clean, like ripping off a band-aid.

 **CriticalGuru:** Hey, I’m just checking in.  
**CG:** Still don’t have the firewall down, but I’m working on it.  
**CG:** The situation is way more urgent then any of us realized, but I still have some time.  
**CaptainWalker:** Hey Yana  
**CW:** Sorry, there’s a change of plans  
**CW:** I stumbled across someone online who was asking for help playing the game, and I thought she could play with us  
**CW:** So I connected to her and it’s going great, she seems really nice…

Well, that was going to go over well. I minimized the window and tried to just focus on the kernel prototyping for right now. One of those anime statues would be just the thing. Something cute and princess-y, maybe. I zoomed the camera in on her room, panning across the shelves. There was one, a schoolgirl who reminded me a bit of Miyong herself, with a short purple haircut. It wasn’t a princess, but it would do. I picked it up and chucked it in the kernel. With nothing remaining I could pretend to be occupied by, I steeled myself, opening the chat back up.

 **CG:** You WHAT?  
**CG:** WTF!  
**CW:** Ok, you’re mad  
**CG:** I’m not mad!  
**CG:** Actually, this is okay, because you probably saved her life.  
**CW:** Let’s not get over dramatic here, it’s just a game  
**CG:** That’s the thing, it’s not.  
**CG:** We’re all in danger, and I think the only way to escape is to enter the game world.  
**CW:** In danger?  
**CW:** What do you mean?  
**CG:** There’s meteors incoming.  
**CG:** I’ve compared the map of impacts to recent reports, and it’s legitimate.  
**CG:** NYC, London, all the important places are going to get hit, and it’ll be BAD.  
**CG:** Like, apocalypse level bad.  
**CW:** Does it have anything to do with the timer?  
**CG:** What timer?  
**CW:** The one on the base of the Cruxtruder that counts down  
**CW:** You didn’t notice it on mine when you brought me into the game?  
**CG:** I didn’t, probably because it’s kind of out of the way.  
**CG:** But yeah, I’d say it’s probably connected.

I glanced back to Miyong’s Cruxtruder and the digits that were ticking down on the display at the base. There was plenty of time, considering she was already on her way towards the elevator. She’d be inside in five minutes, tops.

 **CG:** So your new friend, this girl, she needs to bring Tomas into the game.  
**CG:** I know he wasn’t planning on playing with us today, but I’m not leaving him behind to burn up in a meteor apocalypse.  
**CG:** He’s got a couple hours left, so it’s not super urgent, but we can’t put this off.  
**CG:** I’ll explain things on his end, let’s just make this happen as soon as possible, ok?  
**CW:** What about you?  
**CG:** I have longer, don’t worry about me.  
**CG:** Plus, I’ve got my own problems to work through in the meantime.  
**CW:** Right  
**CW:** Well, be careful  
**CG:** Of course I will.

This was a worrying development. I tapped the side of my laptop with jittery fingers, the new information stewing anxiously in my head. I was saving her life. That was more than I’d intended to bite off, but I couldn’t mess this up. Miyong’s life depended on me keeping my head here, so that was exactly what I was going to do. I cracked my knuckles, hunching over the laptop as I watched her board the elevator and begin to ascend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it's our first game planet you guys! Such a tease, only getting a little glimpse before we get dragged away again to...uh, be smarmy at some poor girl you've just met online? Wow, Greg. Be better than this. It's a testament to how badly she wants to play this game that she didn't block your ass after "konnichiwa." Also, Greg's inability to recognize a bathrobe vs a kimono is just sad. I wonder what idiotic overpowered thing he ignorantly chucked in the kernel?
> 
> Meteors? *gasp* What a shocking development that nobody saw coming!


	6. Tomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 5 of 12

I covered the pan to keep it warm, my eyes locked on the video stream playing on my laptop, set up on the counter so I could watch the unfolding events at the emergency senate session in DC. Senator Robertson, an Independent from New York, had not only achieved a record filibuster, 26 hours and counting, but was still going strong. I could barely even remember what he was speaking against in the first place, a fucked up bill giving corporations insane powers over our lives or something like that, but I couldn’t help but respect the guy for his commitment.

Full disclosure, I did have a bit of a stake in this. No, he wasn’t my representative. But I’d been following his rapid rise through politics with closer attention than most. I’d known his name even before the Times had declared him to be “the next Obama,” front and center on the cover. Everyone had thought he was going to run for president this fall, and I mean everyone, but then he turned right around and stuck with the senate seat instead, giving all the talking heads the biggest case of political blue balls I’ve ever seen.

After today, though, I didn’t think either major party would want him on their side for a presidential bid. The filibuster had devolved into a surreal inquisition, no longer limited by the podium as the senator stalked between the desks, targeting each of his fellow lawmakers in turn. Nobody was spared from the scathing declarations or the pointed finger, as all their misdeeds and improprieties were dragged into the light. It was simultaneously inspiring, totally bad-ass, and kind of terrifying.

“Smells good,” came a voice from behind me. I heard my older brother fall heavily onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. “He still at it?”  
“Mhm,” I confirmed, carrying the pan over to the waiting plates and scraping the breakfast scramble onto each of them.  
“Fuck me.” A picked up their fork, poking their food with the tines. “What’s this?”  
“Eggs, chorizo, beans,” I listed off the main ingredients. “Other stuff too, just eat it. You’ll like it.”

I took a bite, savoring the flavors. It wasn’t as good as I could have made it, but I was going for something easy on the stomach. Experience told me that A would probably appreciate the concession after the night they’d had. Hell, they’d gotten in so late it probably counted as morning, rather than night. A teased it around their plate a little more before scooping a bit onto the end of the fork, giving a nod of approval as they tried it out.

“Got plans for today?”  
“Not really,” I said, swallowing another bite. “Greg and Yana are busy, playing this new game that just released today. I don’t really know what I think about it, so I’ll probably leave them to it. I had some interesting dreams last night, so I guess I’ll paint some. I’ll show you later if anything turns out.”  
A grunted, taking another tentative bite. “What game?”  
“If I’m saying it right, Sburb? It’s weird—”  
I was interrupted by the clatter of A’s fork, bouncing off the plate and onto the floor. Eyes wide, they stared at me with an expression of utter horror, as if I’d just casually confessed to being a serial killer or something.  
“Uh, is everything okay?” I lowered my own fork, confused. This wasn’t a normal A reaction to anything. This was a forcibly-sobered-up-in-three-seconds-flat look, not a still-drunk-just-rolled-out-of-bed look. The hell was with them today?  
“That’s—” A’s voice cracked as they tried to speak. They cleared their throat, then tried again. “That’s today?”  
“Yeah?”  
“Shit. I have to go.” A stood abruptly, their vacant stool teetering back on two legs as they fled the kitchen. I grabbed it before it could fall over, the dramatic exit doubly punctuated by first the slam of the hall drawer, then the front door. What in the actual fuck had that been about? I grabbed my phone and dialed their number, only to set it back down on the counter as I heard a familiar ring tone coming from the living room. Well that was just typical. Remind me, who was the adult in this household again?

I wrapped their leftovers up and put them in the fridge for whenever they decided to stop acting so possessed. Then I sat back down and resumed my own breakfast. A would be back eventually, and until that happened there was no point in ruining the whole day being irritated about it. I finished, but was interrupted by the chime of my chat client before I could wash up. No big deal, I’d do it later.

**CriticalGuru:** Tomas, are you there?  
 **CG:** It’s important, please answer.  
 **CulinaryArtisan:** What’s going on?  
 **CG:** You’re in danger.  
 **CG:** I know you didn’t have plans to play with us, but you need to change those plans.  
 **CG:** If you don’t, you’re going to die.  
 **CA:** Woah woah woah  
 **CA:** Slow down  
 **CA:** I’m going to die? Where do you get that from?  
 **CG:** I found a map of meteor impacts, past and future.  
 **CG:** There’s one looming right over Houston.  
 **CG:** I’m looking at it right now.  
 **CA:** What part? There’s some serious sprawl going on down here, you know  
 **CG:** All of it.  
 **CG:** It’s a big freaking meteor, Tomas.

What was she even talking about? Man, first A, and now Yana. Had I missed the line where they were handing out crazy pills this morning?

**CA:** Let me get this straight  
 **CA:** You found a map that claims to forecast meteor impacts?  
 **CG:** It doesn’t just claim.  
 **CG:** The impacts that have already happened all check out, at least every one I’ve checked.  
 **CG:** It’s for real, you have to believe me.  
 **CA:** Okay, what the hell  
 **CA:** Let’s say it’s real  
 **CA:** How is playing a video game going to help?  
 **CG:** This isn’t just any video game.  
 **CG:** It transports you to another place.  
 **CA:** Yeah, I know, it’s some virtual reality thing  
 **CA:** But you’re still in your room or wherever, you’ll still die  
 **CA:** You just won’t see it coming  
 **CG:** No, you won’t.  
 **CG:** According to this map, and news reports I found confirm it, Greg’s house was obliterated by a meteor just over thirty minutes ago.  
 **CA:** That’s impossible, I’ve talked to him since then  
 **CG:** I have, too.  
 **CG:** It’s possible because he’s safe, Tomas.  
 **CG:** Safe inside the game.  
 **CG:** And we need to get you in here too, before it’s too late.

I leaned against the counter, my head spinning. This felt like a sick joke, but Yana didn’t play like that.

**CA:** What’s the big picture, here?  
 **CA:** How many meteors are we talking about?  
 **CG:** The apocalypse.  
 **CG:** Total destruction of civilization.  
 **CG:** Do I need to go on?  
 **CA:** We have to do something!  
 **CG:** Do WHAT?  
 **CG:** There’s what, 8 billion people on Earth?  
 **CG:** You know we can’t save them all, there’s no time.  
 **CG:** We save who we can.  
 **CA:** That’s so selfish  
 **CA:** I can’t just run away and leave everybody to die!  
 **CG:** What other choice do you have?  
 **CG:** Tomas, I’m not leaving without you.

I grasped the edges of the counter, centering myself as my mind threatened to shut down under the threat of apocalyptic assault. She was right, damn it. I didn’t like it, but I knew deep down inside she was right. I couldn’t save everybody. But I could save somebody.

**CA:** And I’m not leaving without Alice  
 **CG:** Your girlfriend?  
 **CG:** You don’t have TIME for this!  
 **CA:** I will make time for this!  
 **CA:** The game has to download, anyway  
 **CA:** We’ll bring her in while I’m waiting on that  
 **CA:** How does this work? She has to connect to someone, right?  
 **CA:** We’ll get Greg to do it  
 **CG:** Yeah, so about that, he connected to someone else.  
 **CG:** I can pass Alice’s information to her through him, but she’ll have to be the one to connect.  
 **CG:** Then Alice can connect to you, and you can connect to me.  
 **CG:** And then we’ll all be safe.

Except for A. I just had to hope they’d be back in time to come along with me, wherever it was I was going. Into some game, the matrix, whatever. It sounded absolutely insane, but Yana would never have taken a joke this far. She was dead serious, and that scared the hell out of me.

**CG:** Honestly, I was kind of ticked at him because of that, but it gave me a good idea.  
 **CA:** What?  
 **CG:** He said found the girl on a website, where she was asking for help.  
 **CG:** I still can’t breach this login.  
 **CG:** I hate to admit it, but it’s beyond me.  
 **CG:** I’m going to have to ask for help.  
 **CA:** Good luck  
 **CG:** Thanks.  
 **CG:** I’ll talk to you soon, I hope.

Ignoring the sick churning in my stomach, I grabbed my phone and dialed up Alice. It rang once, twice…I began to worry that she wasn’t going to pick up. What was I going to do if she had the ringer on silent, if she was at the movies or something? But then, mid-way through the third ring, I heard her familiar voice, hesitant and sweet, though edged with sharp confusion at the moment.  
“Tomas? Hi. You usually text, this is kind of weird?”  
“Hey babe. Yeah, it’s a weird day. Look, there’s something really important I have to tell you, and I need you to hear me out. It’s a matter of life and death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember back when a corporate takeover of government was still the scariest plausible threat? Feels like forever ago. Now he'd be filibustering to convince those idiots put on a damn mask("wear it and I'll shut up, otherwise I can keep going for hours!"). Ours is truly the most surreal timeline. I'm glad Tomas et al managed to avoid it.


	7. Miyong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 6 of 12

I clutched my bathrobe tight around myself, shivering against the wall of the elevator. Its ascent reverberated through my entire body, radiating numbness down to my fingers and toes. Though maybe that wasn’t just the elevator. I don’t know what I’d been thinking. I shouldn’t be here, doing this. I made a huge mistake.  
I’d posted that advertisement in a fit of defiance against fate, my fate. All my classmates had already picked their teams long ago, and needless to say I wasn’t welcome. I was _gaijin_ , Korean, for one. A liability, for another. So I was outcast, rejected, stabbed through the heart yet again. I can’t say I wasn’t used to it. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

And then I’d actually gotten a reply. I’d done my hair and make-up, but mostly for practice, as I hadn’t expected anyone to actually see. I hadn’t even bothered to get dressed; under the summer-weight robe I was only wearing my pajamas. Why was it so cold in here? I hugged myself, grasping my phone tightly in my hand. I’d never ridden the elevator all the way up before. Was it supposed to take this long?

The elevator dropped beneath my feet, jolting to an abrupt halt as the safety mechanisms engaged. I fell, landing hard on my hands and knees with a cry of pain. I felt my phone slip from my hands, skittering away into the sudden darkness. The elevator shuddered again, a muffled explosion in the distance echoed by a nearby groan of metal. What was happening? I’d felt earthquakes before, and this wasn’t that.

Emergency lights blinked on, then off, then back on. This time they stayed mostly on, weakly flickering over the immobile box. I pushed myself upright, dragging a deep breath into my lungs. The elevator had come to a stop with its doors partially open, misaligned with the floor so that the entire bottom part of the opening was swallowed up by a dark void.

Another explosion came from outside, and the elevator dropped again before stabilizing, a clang echoing up from far below as something fell. I had to get off this deathtrap. Where was my phone? There, in the corner! I crawled towards it, wincing every time my knees took my weight. I might as well be crawling on concrete, for how much good this thin carpet did. I picked up my phone, then used the rail to pull myself to my feet. I couldn’t stop shaking. Or was that the elevator?

That last drop meant I had to lift myself up onto the ledge if I wanted to get out. I passed my phone and the swords out first, so I wouldn’t hurt myself any more than I already had. Then, I placed the palms of my hands upon the nubby carpet, trying not to think about what might happen if the elevator dropped with me only half out of it. I leaned forward, taking my weight upon arms that weren’t strong enough. I gritted my teeth, jumping up and forward to reach something, anything that would help me.

My fingers scrabbled against a ledge, finding purchase, and I pulled with all my strength. At first I thought it wouldn’t be enough, but then I felt myself sliding forward. I tucked my legs up, pulling them through the narrow opening and onto the safety of the floor. My breath came in shallow gasps as I curled into a tight ball, every muscle in my body suddenly replaced with quivering noodles.

As I lay there gathering my strength, the entire building shook again, the worst one yet. This time, the elevator dropped, not moments after I’d pulled myself out of it. I heard the impact as it crashed somewhere down below, letting out a low whimper of relief. I hadn’t been inside. I hadn’t fallen, or gotten cut in half. I was here. And, for right now, I was alive.

My phone screen shone in the dim hallway, lighting up with notifications. I reached for it, drawing it closer. Greg was messaging me.

 **CaptainWalker:** Oh damn  
 **CW:** Are you okay?  
 **NascentKinesia:** i’m alive.  
 **CW:** Well, that’s more than we can say for the elevator  
 **CW:** Holy crap  
 **CW:** I guess you’re talking the stairs, then  
 **NK:** what’s happening?  
 **NK:** i hear explosions.  
 **CW:** There’s a meteor storm hitting Tokyo right now  
 **CW:** We need to get you into the game before one lands on top of you

A meteor storm. That sounded bad. I was dimly aware that I should be more concerned about this than I was, but it was as if all the energy I could have used to worry had been diverted, every ounce of it working to keep my heart beating. Of course there was a meteor storm. The game description had mentioned an apocalypse. But I hadn’t expected something so…actual. Nobody had.

 **CW:** Miyong I’m not joking around  
 **CW:** You need to get up off the floor and you need to walk  
 **CW:** I see stairs, come on  
 **CW:** You can do it, just a little farther

I hit the button to shut him off. He had no idea. Taking a deep breath that made my lungs hurt, I pushed myself to my feet, using the wall for support. I stepped over the phone and swords. Picking them up would require energy I no longer had. I was a _gangsi_ , a dead girl moving in little fits and hops. I even looked like one, with the emergency lighting casting a greenish pallor over my skin. A crazed giggle slipped out from my lips as I reached the stairwell, pushing the door open.

It was a long way up. I don’t know how I made it, hauling myself up step by agonizing step as the building bucked and swayed with every impact from outside. But underneath that broken _gangsi_ exterior was a will of steel, the will of a girl who might be dead, but who wasn’t ready for it. Not yet. I reached the top, pressing both hands against the heavy door, my entire weight working to push it open into the night.

The clouds above were lit not by the constant lights of streets and shops below, but by the hellish glow of fires burning in the city around me. A hot wind fluttered my robe as foul smoke blew into the stairwell. I coughed, pulling the fabric up over my nose. Through the haze, backed by the glow of meteors streaming across the distant sky, I could see the Alchemiter just a few steps away. I stumbled over, spotting the card immediately. It took me a few tries to insert it into the slot, as my hands were shaking so badly. I pressed the button, taking a half step back as a large object appeared on the platform before me.

I was looking at a perfect replica of a machine I recognized, the classic arcade game Dance Dance Revolution. I’d used to play this all the time, back before things got so bad. I’d been pretty good at it too, but that was then. What kind of sick joke was this? I didn’t know who was laughing, but it sure as hell wasn’t me. I could barely stand, and I was supposed to dance for my life?

Tears welled at the corners of my smoke-stung eyes as I clenched my fists, fury rising in my chest. It was like it knew, knew everything about me, and it wanted to raise my hopes only to dash them down. Well, fuck you! I didn’t come this far, out of that elevator and up all those stairs, just to give up. I’d dance. I’d dance as long as I could, I’d dance until my legs collapsed beneath me. And if that wasn’t enough, if I didn’t make it, then at least I’d go down fighting!

I climbed up onto the platform and stepped onto the machine, clinging to the metal bar for support. It was waiting on the ready screen. I took my position and confirmed my start. The beat of an old, familiar song began to play, techno blaring out across the apocalypse unfolding beneath me. I knew this one. It had been my favorite.

I felt the familiar beat within me as I readied myself, waiting for the moment to step in. And there it was, a column of arrows ascending in front of me. I stepped once, twice, and with the third step I was off, arrows exploding in all four directions. I didn’t know what would happen if I missed an arrow, so I didn’t. Left, right, back-right, front — the muscle memory came back to me as if I’d never stopped playing at all.

I was choking on the toxic air, barely able to breathe as my lungs cried out for me to stop, whatever I was doing, just stop it! I couldn’t stop. I was halfway there. My hair was in my eyes, sticking to my lipstick. I couldn’t even see the arrows anymore. I was moving on pure instinct, this _gangsi_ girl now puppeted entirely by half-forgotten memories of the past. I was at the finale, just a few more steps—

It was dark. Breathing hurt, every breath sandpaper in my throat. Even just existing, crumpled on the cold floor, was painful. I dragged my eyes open, lifting impossibly heavy eyelids. Oh, it wasn’t dark at all. The sun was high in the sky, but the sky was wrong. Instead of blue, it was a deep rusty red that tainted the sunlight and everything it touched. I closed my eyes again, not ready to deal with this. Not yet.

A tapping sounded in front of me. I opened my eyes again, easier this time. A bar of faintly-glowing light was before my eyes, one end tapping against the roof as the other extended up, out of my field of vision. I pushed myself up with arms like weak noodles, my eyes following the object up. Oh, it wasn’t a bar. It was the long handle of a glaive. And holding it, that was—  
“Tomoe Hotaru,” I whispered. Sailor Saturn. I recognized her from the anime I’d watched, back when I thought I could fit in if I just pretended. But no, it wasn’t actually her. This was some kind of ghost, an apparition. A game construct.  
“Rise, Thief,” she said, dropping to one knee with one hand supporting herself on the weapon. “It is not yet time for rest. Your friends still have need of you.”

My gaze followed her pointing hand to the small pile of stuff that lay beside me on the roof. My phone, swords, and computer had all been moved up here to lay beside me. Right, I was supposed to do something once I was inside the game. The details of my promise swum away, just out of reach of my exhausted mind. I reached out, dragging the laptop towards me. Just one more task. Then I could rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're definitely not supposed to climb out of a malfunctioning elevator, for obvious reasons. Just so we're clear. This is a fantasy adventure story and should not be replicated at home.
> 
> Gangsi is a reference to [a creature from eastern mythology](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jiangshi) that I admit to shamelessly appropriating for the sake of a metaphor. It sounds terrifying.
> 
> If you like soundtracks, I've got a song for that last bit on the roof: [Quartz Emerald by Extra Terra](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7YIwpLB4kQg)


	8. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 7 of 12

I leaned back against the wall, rough brick digging sharply into my shoulder blades as I slouched just inside the mouth of the alley. It was hot and getting hotter, heat shimmering up off the asphalt. At least here, tucked away between the buildings, there was a bit of shade. The humidity today was unreal. It made me want to go crawl inside a freezer and die. And I’d kill for a breeze right about now.

I pulled a cigarette out, setting the pack down on the empty crate next to me, and fumbled for a light. That was better. Not great, but better. Didn’t fix the weather, or the stabbing in my head, or the twisting in the bottom of my stomach, but if I could care just a little less, I’d take it. I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as I inhaled.

“Dios,” I swore, exhaling smoke around the word. This wasn’t helping as much as I’d hoped. Actually, it was probably making things worse. I coughed, pressing my arm against my stomach to fight down the surge of nausea. I’d be damned if I was going to puke in an alley. I wasn’t that pathetic. Besides, Kayla was supposed to show up any minute now, and she didn’t need to see that shit.

I opened my eyes, watching the people as they walked past on the street. Their eyes just slid past me and the alley, like always. Just some brown kid getting into trouble, whatever. Nobody seemed to care. So long as I kept to myself, I was as good as invisible. That’s how I liked it, anyway.

I tried another drag, and this one went down a bit easier. It was starting to take the edge off the headache at least, which was something. The sludge in my head occasionally known as a brain was starting to get itself in order, sorting through the disaster of the day. First, Dan prodded me out of bed. Then, Kayla’s internet didn’t work. After that, I fucked up Dan’s weapon allocation. And shit, Mimi.

She’d walked right through that door, all innocent eyes and shiny black pigtails, dragging that floppy stuffed bunny behind her. It all happened so fast. Even if Dan had been right next to his computer, I couldn’t have warned him in time. I knew that, I did. But shit, I should have been able to do something. If I’d been more focused, more functional, maybe I wouldn’t have fucked the timing. And then she’d still be safe at home, not dragged along into a game that definitely wasn’t for kids.

The edge of a brick dug through my hair, scraping the back of my head as I turned away from the street, towards the alley. Yeah, this was my fault. If she got hurt, or traumatized, or whatever might happen, that was on me. On my conscience. I did have one, no matter what Kayla said. And right now, it was pissed. Like I didn’t feel bad enough already.

Was she back online yet? I held the cigarette in my mouth as I patted down my pockets, searching for my phone. Left back, right back, front left — ah shit, I knew where it was. It was in my bed, useless to me all the way down here. And I wasn’t about to go all the way back up three flights of stairs to get it. Whoever might be texting me would just have to wait until I was done. And I had a feeling this was going to be a while.

I settled in for the long haul, trying to ignore the guilt that continued to pick at me. After a while, not ready to go back in yet, I went for another cigarette, checking the pack before I set it back down. I had enough to last through tomorrow, maybe longer if I stopped doing…this. I had to find my guy soon, though. I’d see if he could get me some more weed at the same time. If I had to suffer through the rest of this summer, I sure as shit wasn’t doing it sober.

As I inhaled, an explosion rocked the street. I fell, the cigarette tumbling from my fingers as I caught myself on my hands and knees. Alley grit dug its way into my palms as I pushed myself up, peering out towards the column of smoke rising into the air. Something had just gone up, or down, or over. Certainly in some direction it wasn’t intended to go.

It was far enough away not to be immediately concerning, but I was curious now. I thought about walking down the street to take a look. I knew that was a bad idea, really, I did. I’d promised to stay out of trouble, after all. I cleared my throat, attempting to distract myself, to push my curiosity away, but it didn’t help. Would one little look hurt? I’d keep my distance, just get close enough to see what it was, and then go. It would be alright.

As I stepped out into the street, another explosion ripped through the air. I fell back against the wall, but managed to stay on my feet. That one had been more distant, but I didn’t care. It was time to go. Even as the thought worked its way through my mind, a third explosion came, this one close. Too close. Fuck this, I’m outta here.

The elevator was out of order, so I had to take the stairs. By the time I reached my apartment, I was out of breath, taking several tries to fumble my key into the tarnished lock. More explosions had chased me up, though none so near as that one. Still, what the fuck was going on out there? Also, something was blocking the apartment door from opening all the way. I jammed the door against the thing a few times, but it wasn’t budging. Good thing I was so skinny. I slipped through the gap, just barely fitting.

The thing blocking my front door turned out to be a Cruxtruder. So, good news, I guess Kayla’s internet was back on. But bad news, there’s a fucking terrorist attack or something going down outside. I couldn’t play games now! Now was the time to keep my head down, check discord, and figure out if I needed to evacuate or something.

When I made it to my room, I could see my phone where I left it on my bed, amid the tangle of sheets. I climbed over the Alchemiter and grabbed it, notifications continuing to pour in as I unlocked the screen, virtually all from Kayla. Jesus Christ, I had 99+ messages from her and counting. Nobody had time to read that shit. Daniel had only left me one message, so I opened his instead.

**ElectronicDealer:** Alex this is not a joke, this is dead serious, you need to get in this game right now

Confused, I could only stand there, frozen with my phone in my hands. He was serious. He’d even used my fucking name, that was how serious he was. I believed him. I knew I had to move, but somehow I couldn’t. The part of my sludge-brain that controlled my body was stuck, resisting even as the rest of me screamed at it to do something. As I hesitated, more messages arrived.

**ED:** Kayla says you’re back, but you need to move now  
 **ED:** You have < 1 min

That broke me out of the trance. Less than one minute until what, I didn’t know. But I knew it was bad enough to make Dan talk like that, so I fucking listened. I dropped the phone, scrambling back into the front room to open the Cruxtruder. Dan had made it look so easy, but it was actually really hard. I had to use all my strength before it opened, spilling myself on my ass when the wheel finally turned free.

The kernel cast crazy shadows around the room as it flared behind me, already on my way back towards the Alchemiter. Shit, would it have killed her to put them both in the same room? Distracted, I collided with a guitar that had been unexpectedly floating in mid-air. Not mine, my brother’s. I guess Kayla was here, trying to put it in the kernel? It didn’t look like she’d made it, because the flashing was gone and the guitar was still here. I shoved it aside, moving into my bedroom.

I found the card on the floor, where it must have fallen. I inserted it, slamming my palm down on the button. Pain shot through my hand, but I ignored it, checking out the object I had to deal with. Some kind of scroll, hovering in midair? I reached out for it, but it yanked itself away from my grasping hand, unrolling as it plastered itself over my bedroom window. Oh, I recognized this now.

I turned, my bedside drawer rattling as I pulled it open, retrieving what I was looking for from atop the pile of junk. I turned back to the window, raising my Beretta to take aim at the target. Center mass, just like all those times at the range. Easy. There was already a magazine inside, so there should be one in the chamber. I thumbed the safety up, both hands on the grip as I looked down the sights. Breathe. Aim. Fire.

The gun kicked back in my hands as the bullet ripped through the target. The roar of my gun and a sudden flash of light, not from my gun, engulfed me. Disoriented me. I tried to move, but tripped instead, landing in a pile of clothes. I couldn’t hear any more explosions. Well, I couldn’t hear much of anything. Give it a minute.

My vision cleared first. The room was darker than it had been, the glass in my window shattered outward. There was no sign of the target I’d been aiming for. I flipped the safety back on and untangled myself from the dirty clothes, though I didn’t put my gun down. Not yet. I moved over to the window, careful not to cut myself on the sharp edges, and looked out.

It reminded me of the old moon photographs. The sky was pitch black, with a distant sun, or something like it, faintly illuminating the scene from above. Not that there was much to see. The surface of this place, this moon or whatever, was smooth rock, like concrete. There were no dips, no cliffs, no nothing. Just a flat expanse of gray in every direction, as far as the eye could see.

But I hadn’t died in a bomb explosion. So there was that.

I moved back to my bed, sitting down on the edge and rooting around in the covers for my phone. It was still open to the conversation with Dan, and he’d said some more things.

**ED:** Kayla says you made it  
 **ED:** Dude, I was so afraid you were dead  
 **ED:** You have no idea  
 **BerettasRevenge:** hey im here  
 **BR:** im ok  
 **BR:** what just happened  
 **ED:** Meteors, bro  
 **ED:** I didn’t find out until after you were gone, then you didn’t answer  
 **BR:** i left my phone upstairs  
 **BR:** sorry  
 **BR:** you know i don’t smoke fast  
 **ED:** Those things’ll get you killed, man  
 **ED:** I’m glad you’re alive instead, and here with me  
 **BR:** here in the parking lot  
 **ED:** What do you mean?  
 **BR:** outside it looks like a parking lot  
 **BR:** just boring concrete  
 **ED:** Weird  
 **ED:** I’ve got giant crystals outside here  
 **BR:** the fuck  
 **BR:** i want crystals  
 **ED:** Don’t worry, I’ll share mine if you want  
 **ED:** Bro, Kayla is ripping my ear off here  
 **ED:** Will you answer her already?  
 **BR:** oh

I’d forgotten about Kayla. I switched chats, wincing as what had to be hundreds of lines scrolled past, way too quickly for me to see the words. There was no way I was gonna read all of that. Sorry, K. I settled for just reading the last couple messages, skipping past what I assumed was mostly wild panic.

**ScholarAquatic:** Do you have your phone turned to silent or something? I swear, Munoz. One day I will catch a flight out there, just see if I don’t.  
 **SA:** Oh wait! I just realized. I don’t even have to get on a plane, because we’re going to be in the same place as soon as Natalya comes back. Dan already brought her in, so all she has to do is connect to me and we’ll be all set up.  
 **SA:** So consider yourself warned, because I will come over there and give you what you deserve for your ridiculous lack of concern over your own self-preservation.  
 **BerettasRevenge:** im glad im alive too  
 **SA:** Oh, now you answer! I was so worried, you have no idea how much. I’m still shaking. I keep having to fix all the words because I hit the wrong letters.  
 **BR:** also were not going to be in the same place  
 **BR:** i was talking to dan and he said there were crystals outside  
 **BR:** but i don’t see anything like that where i am  
 **SA:** You’re right, there’s nothing like that anywhere I can see on the screen. That’s strange. I guess we all get our own home base. But we’re supposed to be able to play together eventually, right? Physically, I mean. I thought that was why you two were so excited about this.  
 **BR:** yeah  
 **BR:** after we level up a bit maybe  
 **BR:** hey did you put anything in my kernel  
 **SA:** The floating light thing? I don’t think so. I was trying to put that guitar in, but you weren’t looking where you were going and knocked it on the floor. Then the kernel sort of just floated up into the corner and disappeared.  
 **BR:** dont think that was supposed to happen  
 **BR:** weird  
 **SA:** Also, this place is a pigsty. Do you seriously live like this? When’s the last time you took out the trash, or did your laundry? And is that mold in your bathroom?  
 **BR:** the other week  
 **BR:** i dunno  
 **BR:** and yeah probably  
 **SA:** Oh my god. Meteor strikes aside, how are you even still alive?

The slightest of smirks tugged at the corner of my mouth. That was typical Kayla, always trying to be everybody’s mom. She’d be alright. And I’d be alright too, in a while. Well, a while and another glass of water. At least we’d almost completed our team. All we were waiting on was Natalya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Such edgy. Wow. And today on "do as I say, not as I write": please don't leave loaded handguns sitting unsecured in your bedside table.
> 
> Look, it's another adventure land, except this one is boring as hell! I'm with Alex, I want those giant crystals.


	9. Natalya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 8/12

I stood outside the door, arms crossed as I surveyed the land I found myself in. Unimpressive. It was bland, just dirt and rocks. Not even good dirt. It was dead dirt, the kind that needed an expert gardener’s touch to coax much of anything out of. No wonder nothing grew here.

I turned, brushing my long dirty-blonde hair back over my shoulder as I walked inside, securing the locks on the door behind me. I was armed of course, my sword secured at my hip, but I still didn’t want anything sneaking up on me. I hadn’t seen any of the mobs we’d been promised yet, but I knew they were out there, the little fuckers.

I returned to my computer room, which doubled as the garden room. It was a small house, okay? Nudging aside a pot that had shifted into the walkway, I glanced to the sad kernel floating in the corner. Daniel had given the hungry kernel one of my babies, a blue-flowering species with delicate vines and leaves. It had been one of my favorites to look at and touch, and it hurt my heart to see the kernel take on its form, but in such a wilted, dying state.

“What do you need, little bud?” I whispered to it, crouching down to stare into the pulsing heart. “Is it this place? Does it bleed the life out of you?”

I knew how to tend to an actual plant in soil when it began to wilt, but not so much a magical light orb that was only pretending to be a plant. Maybe it didn’t matter, though. Maybe I’d been right about this place, about what it took from all that came here. If I was, then the solution was obvious.

I stood, poking through the bags heaped in the corner until I found what I was looking for. I only had a little of this, the nicest fertilizer for the most difficult cases. I opened the bag, catching a whiff of the dense nutrient smell as I reached my hand inside. I withdrew it, cupping the precious pile in the palm of my hand as I transported it across the room, careful not to spill.

I knew I was right even as I approached. The kernel seemed to dance, bobbing in place as I drew closer. I wasn’t sure exactly how to do this, so I held my hand directly above it, tilting it to let the fertilizer fall down into the heart of the kernel. I closed my eyes as it flashed to protect my vision, and when I opened them I thought it had vanished at first. But then I saw it.

Glowing green vines grew up the wall as if it were a trellis. Not very far up, and they weren’t yet flowering, but that would come in time. I bent down, reaching my dirt-stained hand out towards the vines. A tiny tendril reached out, wrapping around my finger. Thoughts flowed through me, concepts and emotions rather than words or pictures. I felt fear and comradeship, revelry and destruction. And, above all, I felt the growth of a new seedling. One which must be nurtured, fought for, and defended at any cost.

Behind me, my computer chimed, and I pulled my hand away. We would commune again later. I stood, brushing my hand onto my pants as I walked back to the keyboard, leaning over it. Good, my solution had worked. I typed out a quick message, noting the smear of soil and fertilizer I left on the keys, despite my attempt at cleanliness.

 **DigitalHorticulturist:** We will connect soon. I will get in touch with Walker, explain the situation. Wait for me.

As if they had any other option. It was a good thing I had stumbled across the post on that obscure support board. Meteors were already falling, and today we all faced sure destruction. All except for a few, lucky to escape with our lives. But before I could continue, there was a conversation I needed to have. I’d been putting it off for too long already.

 **DigitalHorticulturist:** You there?  
**ScholarAquatic:** Finally! Nat, there’s alarms going off here. Everybody’s gone, and something is on fire outside. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Do you still have my information to connect, or do you need it again?  
**DH:** I’m sorry.  
**SA:** What? Why?  
**DH:** This isn’t going to be how we planned it.  
**SA:** What does that mean?  
**SA:** Natalya, talk to me, please. What’s going on? You can’t just leave me here!  
**DH:** I would never just leave you there.  
**DH:** The plan adapted to new events. That’s all.  
**SA:** Stop hedging around things and say it straight out, please. You told me there’s meteors on their way, and if I don’t play this game I’m going to die. You were supposed to connect with me so I could escape. Is that not happening anymore?  
**DH:** It is not. But you will not die. I promise.  
**DH:** Somebody needed my help. I will connect to them instead. Another will connect to you.  
**SA:** What? Do you know these people?  
**DH:** No.  
**DH:** But I do not want them to die.  
**DH:** Do you?  
**SA:** Oh Nat, of course not. I’m just losing it over here is all, and I feel really out of the loop right now. Do you know when I’ll be able to enter?  
**DH:** Not exactly. Soon.  
**SA:** Well, considering my options are soon or never, because I’ll be dead, I certainly hope it’s soon.  
**DH:** I will contact him as soon as we’re done.  
**SA:** Well, don’t let me keep you, then. Go talk to whoever it is you have to talk to!  
**SA:** Oh, and Nat?  
**DH:** Yes?  
**SA:** Please hurry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I don't know where she got that broadsword. Do not question mildy-deranged girls and their taste in old-fashioned weaponry. I'm almost certain she came with the sword because she thinks it's hilarious that I keep running into the problem that now every fight scene she's in sounds like a particularly violently-written sex scene.


	10. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 9 of 12

Outside the windows of my cab, the Manhattan streets flew past. Normally, I’d people watch on my way back home, but today I was focused completely on the tablet in my lap. Explaining something I didn’t totally understand myself was really hard, okay?

**PrincessAmor:** No u have to open it  
 **PA:** Turn the wheel  
 **ArtemisArcher:** It’s stuck!  
 **AA:** Are you sure this is how it works, Ali?  
 **PA:** Ya  
 **PA:** Just pull harder b

My BFF from halfway around the world, Bridget Glenn, stood on the rim of the storage thing, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off the waves of light brown hair that cascaded down her back. I’ll never not be jealous of that hair. It was a never ending battle with my father to convince him to let me get my hair chemically treated. So far, I’d only managed to talk him down to a flat iron, which didn’t last nearly as long as it should for the amount of effort involved.

I watched as Bridget grasped the wheel in both hands, leaning to the side as she pulled. I’d set up in the yard by her stables, where the horses she and her grandfather kept whinnied and pranced behind closed stalls. They seemed extra excited today, almost like they knew something was going to happen. Animals could sense disasters, right? Maybe that was it.

Finally, the wheel popped open, releasing a little ball of light into the air. Bridget nearly stumbled off the thing, but caught herself on the fence, spinning around to stick the landing. She was so graceful. I could imagine her being a gymnast, or a figure skater, though she’d always scoffed at the idea when I’d brought it up. She preferred standing still and shooting arrows at a target instead. That girl didn’t know what she was wasting.

**AA:** What do I do now?  
 **PA:** Use the card in the thing  
 **AA:** This thing here?  
 **PA:** No the other thing

Bridget stepped away from the light ball container and moved towards the platform thing, setting her laptop down atop it as she studied the controls.

**AA:** In the slot?  
 **AA:** I’m sorry to ask so many questions, I just want to make sure I do this right.  
 **PA:** I guess  
 **PA:** idk  
 **PA:** Tomato told me some stuff  
 **PA:** But he doesn’t really know either  
 **AA:** Tomato?  
 **PA:** Tomas*  
 **PA:** Omg

I felt the blood rush to my face, thankful for the dark complexion that hid my shame from the cab driver, as well as any other nosy people looking in from outside. Freaking autocorrect! So mortifying.

**AA:** You should really add his name to the dictionary. You’ve only been dating for what, 4 months?  
 **PA:** 129 days  
 **AA:** Wow, someone’s counting.  
 **AA:** But yeah girl, add him already! You don’t want anyone thinking you’re dating a garden vegetable.  
 **PA:** Omg b  
 **PA:** Stop talking about it  
 **PA:** U need to worry about urself  
 **PA:** Not about me  
 **AA:** I beg to differ. Someone needs to worry about you, and your big strong Tomato’s a long way away.  
 **PA:** Omg I said shut up!

The a/c blasting back from the front of the cab wasn’t nearly enough to dispel the heat radiating from my cheeks. I looked around the lawn around for a suitable revenge, spotting a bucket of water next to a trough. Perfect! Just tap to grab it like that, and drag it over…she was standing there, so oblivious. She’d regret teasing me for an honest mistake.

But my finger must have slipped, letting up for a split second, long enough for the bucket to begin to fall. I tried to grab it again, but succeeded only in flipping it, spilling its contents far short of the intended target. Water splashed down onto the light orb, which flashed brightly enough to attract Bridget’s attention before vanishing. Oops.

**AA:** What are you doing?  
 **PA:** Nothing.  
 **AA:** Ali, you only use periods at the end of your sentences when you’re trying to sound innocent. Is there something we need to talk about?  
 **PA:** I do not!  
 **PA:** Just use ur machine shrinky pants  
 **AA:** Shrinky pants?  
 **PA:** Ya cuz ur acting like a shrink at me!  
 **PA:** Nvm  
 **PA:** Push ur button  
 **AA:** Something’s spooking the horses. I think I hear a car on the road out front.  
 **PA:** Ya?  
 **PA:** Cars drive on roads b  
 **AA:** No, you don’t understand. We’re in the middle of nowhere out here. Nobody drives down that road who isn’t my grandfather, and he’s already at home.  
 **PA:** Ya well maybe he went out and u didn’t know  
 **PA:** Focus pls

Finally, she pushed the big dumb button, and an archery target appeared on the platform in front of her. Now this was getting somewhere. She went to get her bow, one of those fancy modern ones with the pulleys and stuff. Slinging a quiver of arrows over her arm, she walked back over to the target before shooting at it point blank. The arrow flew straight to the center of its target, faster than the blink of an eye, but nothing happened.

**AA:** Darn, it won’t let me cheat.  
 **PA:** What do u mean?  
 **AA:** In a real competition, you don’t shoot up close like this. Competitions begin at 30 meters. I need to back up.

I watched as she turned and counted out paces across the field. Once she’d arrived at what I guessed was thirty meters, she turned, raising the bow again. She put an arrow in and drew the string back to her ear before shooting. Just as a flash of light enveloped the screen, I saw her head snap to the side, looking back towards her house.

By the time my screen cleared, she was nearly back to the platform, running across a field not much different from the grass in Ireland. But this grass was just a little more thick, a little less green, and in the distance a dark forest loomed. She leaned over the laptop, typing a message to me double time.

**AA:** I need to see if my grandfather is okay. Back soon.

And then she was off again, bow in hand, sprinting across the field towards her house. Behind her, one of the stall doors finally splintered apart, a white horse galloping out and away across the field. I bit my lip, but I had no way to tell her. She’d figure it out soon enough, I guess. At least she was in this alternate universe place, safe from the threat that apparently loomed over our own world. I just hoped her grandfather was alright.

Looking up from my tablet, I realized we were stopped. From the looks of the traffic jam, we’d been stopped for a while. I hadn’t noticed. We were still a few blocks away from my apartment, but it didn’t look like we were getting there anytime soon in this gridlock. I could probably walk there faster.

I grabbed my purse, running my card through the machine before slinging the bag over my shoulder and stepping out of the cab into the exhaust-choked city streets. Wobbling my way between parked cars, I made my way to the sidewalk. These were brand new heels, and I’d been excited to try them out, but I wouldn’t have picked today if I’d realized I’d be doing so much walking. Still, there was no way around it. I took a deep breath, shook my shoulders out, then started back off towards home.

I was halfway down the block when the tablet pressed to my chest vibrated with a notification. I slowed my pace, hoping it was Bridget. But no, it was a name I didn’t recognize. Was this the mystery girl I was supposed to connect with?

**NascentKinesia:** hello?  
 **PrincessAmor:** Hey r u mixing?  
 **NK:** what?  
 **PA:** Miyong* sry  
 **NK:** yes.  
 **NK:** are you ready?  
 **PA:** Ya I d/led the app

I sent over my details, trying to keep a brisk pace even as I typed. But it was really hard. I didn’t want to get hit by a car or something, you know? I’d never make it home in time if that happened. The girl didn’t reply to me in the chat, but the picture in the app changed from blue to green, signaling that we’d connected.

**NK:** wait where are you?  
 **PA:** On my way home  
 **PA:** It’s gonna be close, ur gonna have to set up while I walk  
 **NK:** i can’t.  
 **PA:** What do u mean u can’t?  
 **NK:** the camera is stuck on you.  
 **NK:** i can’t move it.

Oh no. I checked the time, my stomach dropping as I realized exactly how close this was cutting it. I might make it back up there by the meteor fell, if I didn’t get delayed, but I wouldn’t have any time to do anything! I needed to go faster. I stuffed my tablet away into my purse for safe keeping, biting my lip as I glanced down at my feet. It was so gross, but I didn’t have a choice, did I? I’d break my ankle otherwise.

I bent down, releasing the straps that bound my shiny, new, impractical shoes to my feet. Stepping out barefoot onto the hot, rough concrete slabs, I tried not to think about the fungi, and parasites, and diseases, and all the other horrible things I’d be walking through. I twisted the fingers of my right hand through the straps of the shoes, secured a grip on my purse strap with my left, and then ran for home.

I was used to running on a treadmill, not on the street. It’s totally different. People were always in the way, even when I yelled out that I was coming through. A few people even tried to stop me, I guess worried about why a teenage girl was running down the sidewalk. But mostly they were angry. I flew through the streets, pursued by a chorus of “hey, watch where yer goin’!”

My height was my biggest advantage. I could see past most of the women and even some of the men, and who was going to stop someone bigger than they were? I had size, I had momentum, and I was going home darn it, so get out of my way! Even the red “do not walk” hand didn’t stop me, and I did have plenty of room between those two cars, so there was no need to blare that horn! New Yorkers were so rude.

I raced into the lobby, out of breath, but not slowing until I came to a staggering halt by the elevator.  
“Miss Robertson?” The elderly attendant recognized me, peering out from beneath his cap with concern. “Are you alright?”  
“Yes,” I managed to get out, between gasps for air. Nothing like the gym at all. I straightened as best I could, pointing upwards. “Upstairs. Please.”

He entered the elevator behind me, seeming unconvinced that I was actually fine. But it wasn’t his job to worry about that. In fact, it was explicitly his job not to ask questions. I didn’t hold it against him, though. He was a nice man, and I always put in for the holiday collection when it came around. I knew he was asking from a place of caring, rather than nosiness like some would.

As the elevator ascended, smooth and silent, I checked my things. Somehow, miraculously, I still had all my stuff with me. As we reached the top I stepped out, nodding my thanks for the ride. Behind me, I felt his eyes on my back until the elevator doors slid all the way closed. I walked down the short hallway, digging my keys from the bottom of my purse. With a sigh of relief, I unlocked my front door and stepped into the penthouse.

The room was open, dominated by a giant arched window that took up nearly the entire southern wall. I dropped my shoes and purse on the ottoman. I’d finally made it. I reached for my tablet, letting out a little shriek as the sofa begin to move across the floor, dragged along by an invisible ghost. It was so creepy to be on the other end of it!

Settling my ruffled feathers, I checked my texts. She hadn’t said anything else yet. I guess she was busy setting up. A sudden purring by my legs signaled the arrival of my cat, rubbing himself around my calves to welcome me home.  
“Hey Romeo,” I said, crouching down to pet him where he liked it, just between his ears. But as more stuff was dropped into my living room he spooked, darting away in a flash of gray fluff. I stood up, my attention dragged back to the chat log as a notification chimed.

**NK:** pick a weapon.  
 **PA:** A weapon?  
 **PA:** I don’t have one  
 **NK:** go find one.  
 **PA:** Uh I don’t think so?  
 **PA:** I’m not gonna fight  
 **PA:** Ur crazy if u think I will  
 **NK:** just pick something.  
 **NK:** do what you want after.  
 **NK:** just pick it up!  
 **PA:** But idk what  
 **NK:** anything.  
 **NK:** something you’re good at.

This was getting way too complicated. I wasn’t good at any kind of fighting thing! I was good at lit class and history, but that was really abstract. I didn’t know how I could just pick that up. My brain scrambled for more possibilities, no matter how weird. I was good at playing the flute, I’d even gotten a solo in band last year. And I could pick that up.

So I did. I crossed the room, ducking a chair as it lifted off the floor. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw it strike the wheel with a horrible splintering sound. I winced, trying to ignore the damage to my father’s furniture as I lifted my music case from its spot on the shelf. Reaching inside, I grasped the delicate silver instrument with both hands, holding it close to my chest for safekeeping. There, I’d just grabbed it. Was she happy, now?

**NK:** uh  
 **NK:** that’s not really what I meant.  
 **NK:** how will you fight with that?  
 **PA:** I already told u I’m not fighting  
 **PA:** I’m playing pacifist ok?  
 **NK:** whatever  
 **NK:** im just  
 **NK:** done  
 **PA:** What do u mean?  
 **NK:** its ready  
 **NK:** i did it  
 **NK:** bye  
 **PA:** Hey what  
 **PA:** Mixing talk to me  
 **PA:** Miyong*  
 **PA:** Heyyyyyy  
 **PA:** Where’d u go?

She was just gone. What the heck? I glanced around the room, setting the flute back in its case. All the stuff I needed was here, including a card set neatly on top of the round platform that sat directly in front of the big window. It didn’t matter that she was gone, because I didn’t need her anymore, did I? I could finish this by myself.

She’d managed to get the tube open before she'd left, I noticed, as the light orb bobbed lazily across the window. Not that I knew what the heck I was supposed to do with it, other than let it out. I stepped over to the platform, picking up the card to examine it closely for the first time. It had a bunch of holes punched in it, like one of those old fashioned computer code cards.

As I flipped it over to check the back, the world exploded in a spray of glass shards. I dropped the card as I flung my arms up to shield myself, instinctively turning away from the window to protect my face. Romeo yowled as scorching wind blasted into the apartment, bringing with it distant screams. When I dared to look up, I saw the skyline burning through the shattered window, dark smoke billowing skyward as distant sirens wailed.

And here I was, barefoot amid a sea of broken shards. They covered everything, save for a void directly behind where I was standing. Looking around, I couldn’t see Romeo anywhere. He’d probably run off to hide. I hoped so, at least, because the alternative was far too horrible to consider. Another distant rumble sounded from outside. I was running out of time.

I crouched down, reaching out to grab the card from where it had fallen to the ground. I shook the glass off and straightened, ignoring the sounds from outside as I concentrated on placing one careful foot in front of the other, picking my way through the minefield. Despite my caution, I winced as my foot came down on something sharp, too small to be seen, leaving a smear of blood behind on the hardwood.

I inserted the card, but hesitated before hitting the button. Bridget had been given an archery target. So would I be asked to use my flute, to play a song perhaps? I glanced across the room, then at the floor, covered in painful shards. There was no way I could reach it from over here, so if I did have to I was in trouble. Hoping with all my heart, I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed the button.

The machine beeped at me and I opened my eyes, finding myself staring at a pair of crystal legs. Well, not just legs. My eyes followed the clinging trousers up to his lithe hips, then a torso clad in flowing cloth, one arm raised dramatically as the statue stared off dreamily into the distance. Despite the horror of the moment surrounding me, my breath caught in my throat. He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

I brushed as much of the glass off the platform as I could, blood from a hundred tiny cuts streaked across the white surface by the time I was satisfied. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind. Then, I reached up, grasping his lower hand to pull myself up. It never even occurred to me until I was in motion that he might topple off and break, but he was solid, and soon I was looking up into his eyes, one hand brushing against his shoulder.

He was like a god. A tall god, one who I didn’t have to look down at. Long hair flowed down, framing angular, striking features, his lips slightly parted in an expression of pure longing and desire. I stroked his cheek, feeling the flaw in the situation. He was hard, cold, like marble. Even the folds of his shirt and his individual strands of hair, immaculately detailed as they were, had absolutely no softness, no tenderness to them at all.

But what did that matter? The heroes who’d only open themselves to love once they’d rescued their fair maiden were time-honored. I knew my part in this story, and could play it well. I placed my right hand in his uplifted one, curling my dark fingers around his crystalline blue ones. My left hand reached around his side, coming to rest in the small of his back, the little spot where his shirt didn’t quite cover. The level of detail here was enough to make my heart race!

Ignoring the sharp grind beneath the soles of my feet as I shifted, rising to tip-toe, I closed my eyes. The din outside rose to become a roar, rushing towards me. Just a little closer. I felt breath against my lips as I opened them, pressing them against his impenetrable mouth. For just a moment, I thought I felt him move beneath my touch, but then the roar overcame me. The world dissolved into a storm of noise, and everything was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freaking autocorrect. This will be a recurring plot point.
> 
> And here we see that the entry object can actually be quite versatile, in my mind at least. Any interest that can be represented by an action might be chosen, whether it's shooting a target, hitting a home run, playing DDR, or even kissing a romance novel hunk with NYC burning as a backdrop. Talk about a cover illustration.
> 
> Mixing r u ok? :( Mixing pls respond. Don't die.


	11. Bridget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 10 of 12

I sat down on the fence, laptop balanced in my lap as I nervously spun a lock of my hair. Everything was wrong, here. I’d been all through and around the house, but there’d been no sign of either my grandfather or the gunshot I’d heard. Worry coiled its way around my heart, locking me tightly together with my fears.  
We weren’t in Ireland anymore, I knew that much. Just as Alice had warned me, I’d been transported somewhere else. Since people didn’t simply vanish into thin air, that left only one conclusion that made any sense at all: my grandfather had been outside the area of effect, and had therefore been left behind. Damn that car! If they hadn’t driven up, he would have stayed in the house. He’d be here with me, right now.

Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes as a ghostly horse galloped across the lawn, running straight through the fence. That was another thing to get used to, the sudden transformation of Starlight, my favorite horse, into this new form. I felt it had something to do with the orb of light. They both had the same silvery quality, and one had disappeared just as the other had appeared.

I shook my head, reaching up to wipe the tears from my cheeks. I couldn’t let myself get distracted by all of this, not now. I had a promise to keep. We hadn’t been formally introduced, this boyfriend of hers and I, but she’d given me his chat handle. I typed it in now, allowing myself only a moment to hesitate over my choice of words. The events which had just transpired in my own life had me convinced that there was no time to lose.

**ArtemisArcher:** Hello, is this Tomas?  
 **CulinaryArtisan:** Uh who’s this?

Of course she hadn’t told him. I sighed, tucking my hair back behind my ears. As much as I loved that girl, communication was really not Alice’s strong point, and it drove me mad.

**AA:** I’m sorry, I’d hoped Alice would have told you.  
 **AA:** My name is Bridget Glenn, and I’m supposed to act as your Sburb server player.  
 **CA:** You know Alice?  
 **CA:** Is she safe? I’m afraid to distract her  
 **AA:** I feel the same, honestly.  
 **AA:** The last I heard was that she was hurrying home, and I can only hope that she’ll make it to safety.  
 **CA:** I guess  
 **CA:** The client is finished downloading, but I have a while to wait on the server  
 **CA:** Let’s do this then

I connected to him, the viewing screen displaying a charming little kitchen with a nervous boy pacing. Alice had never shared a picture, so I hadn’t really known what to expect. I looked him over, noting his well-tanned skin, short brown hair, and soft, kind features. He was fine enough, but he seemed a little shorter than she usually preferred her guys, with a solid build that was also a bit out of her usual type. Maybe she was finally starting to look past her rigid romantic ideals. Good for her.

**AA:** Okay, I can see you. You’re in your kitchen.  
 **AA:** Where’s a good place to set this equipment up? Some of it is quite large.  
 **CA:** Try the living room  
 **AA:** Thanks. Oh, and I’ve activated your weapon selection, so go ahead and pick something up that you’d like to use.

Before I panned away from the kitchen, I watched him select a large, wickedly sharp knife from the block by the stove. Knifekind it was, then. I followed him to the living room, nodding as I took in the surroundings, all beige and brown with the occasional bold accent. There was more space to work with here for sure, if I just moved the coffee table and the sofa aside…there!

I placed the Cruxtruder and the Alchemiter, my annoyance rising as I noticed they were clearly labeled in the interface. Though, I suppose her autocorrect would only have mangled the names anyway, and it’s not like I would have known what a “cross ruder” or an “alchemy tier” was. So perhaps it was for the best. I saw the card waiting to be deployed, but was distracted by another chat before I could do anything with it.

**PrincessAmor:** I’m in  
 **ArtemisArcher:** That’s great Ali, I’m glad you made it. We were worried about you.  
 **PA:** U have no idea  
 **PA:** This place is wrecked  
 **PA:** But b I found something  
 **PA:** U wanna look at this

I accepted the file transfer, opening up a camera shot of a note, neatly printed in black ink on a piece of notebook paper. It wasn’t Alice’s handwriting, as the lines were straighter and didn’t flare as much on the ends.

**AA:** What is this? I’m kind of busy right now, so could you summarize it for me?  
 **PA:** Ugh b its important  
 **PA:** Its instructions for the game  
 **PA:** Father left them for me I guess  
 **PA:** Weird cuz I didn’t even know I was gonna play  
 **AA:** That’s his handwriting?

I’d always assumed he’d have more formal handwriting, being a politician and all. Besides, wasn’t he kind of stuffy? Alice was always complaining about that. I would have expected his handwriting to be by-the-book cursive script.

**PA:** No not rly  
 **PA:** Which is kinda weird  
 **AA:** Um Ali, I don’t think your dad left you that note. Also, didn’t you say he was in Washington DC right now for some emergency thing?  
 **PA:** Ya he is  
 **PA:** It just kinda showed up on the table  
 **PA:** But like  
 **PA:** Look  
 **PA:** Either its from him and I just didn’t see it  
 **PA:** Which is totally possible  
 **PA:** Or  
 **PA:** Someone snuck in and left me a note just now  
 **PA:** And that’s freaking scary  
 **PA:** So its from him ok??

Oh, Alice. Now I was worried. Phantom gunshots, my grandfather missing, and now she was receiving mysterious notes that may or may not have been from a home intruder? What was this mess we’d gotten ourselves into? But I knew there was no point arguing with her when she had her mind set like this.

**PA:** But u need to read it  
 **PA:** Its important  
 **PA:** Promise?  
 **AA:** Okay, I’ll read it. But you need to promise me too, Ali.  
 **PA:** What?  
 **AA:** Promise me you’ll be careful out there.  
 **PA:** Of course I will b  
 **PA:** U be careful too

I pulled the image up, leaning closer as I skimmed through it. The text described something called a “kernel prototyping process,” a game mechanic that would allow us to affect the challenges we’d face inside the game through placing objects in the kernel, which I realized referred to the flashing light orbs. Each kernel could take up to two objects, and while anything placed inside the kernel before the player entered the “game medium” would contribute to our enemy’s strength, anything placed inside afterward would merely affect the “sprite,” an apparently-helpful entity that would serve as our guide.

I glanced up from my screen to the ghostly horse cantering over the meadow. So that was a sprite, it seemed. Did that mean I would have to fight enemies that looked like Starlight? No, I was certain I’d heard her break out of the stables only after I’d already shot the target, meaning her form would only affect the sprite, and not the enemies. So that was good.

Had Alice put anything in the kernel at all, before I’d entered? Right down at the bottom it said that was vital, otherwise your game would fail to initialize properly. I worried that she hadn’t, but then Starlight — Starlightsprite? — leapt, casting a dancing shadow like those I’d expect to find upon the ocean floor, and I realized she had. I didn’t know that it had been intentional, but I’d caught her with that empty bucket, one I’d known for a fact had been filled with water not moments before. I’d been the one to fill it.

So, my pre-entry prototyping was water. That could cause some problems. I knew that I wasn’t a very strong swimmer myself, and even the greatest Olympian would drown in enough of it, let alone any of us. But while I couldn’t undo her prototyping, I did still have a chance to cancel it out. Switching back to Sburb and my chat with Tomas, I saw to my chagrin that he’d been waiting on me this entire time. Whoops.

**CA:** What do I do with all this stuff?  
 **CA:** Are you there, Bridget?  
 **CA:** There’s a slot or something here, but I don’t know what to put in it  
 **CA:** Talk to me, are you okay?  
 **AA:** I’m so sorry, I’m here now. Alice was talking to me. She’s okay, and she found something we should take a look at. I’ll send you a copy later.  
 **CA:** Oh, that’s good  
 **CA:** Hey do you have voice chat?  
 **CA:** That might be easier  
 **AA:** Oh sure, I don’t have a headset out here so it might echo though.  
 **CA:** That’s fine, it just seems to work better with all the distractions  
 **AA:** Definitely. Invite me when you’re ready.

I accepted his invitation to the voice chat and was greeted by a light buzz of white noise.  
“Hello?” I asked, leaning close so my laptop’s built-in mic could catch my voice.  
“Hey!” A voice responded. If I hadn’t been looking right at him, I would have expected a movie cowboy to be on the other end of the line. His voice was so American! “You’re British?”  
“Irish,” I corrected. “Not northern, the country. Okay, I’ll send the picture over before I forget. Check it once you’re safe inside the game. Also, you want this.”  
I deployed the card neatly atop the Alchemiter platform, watching as he picked it up and inserted it in the slot, pressing the button. A flat white square about the size of a large hardcover book appeared on the platform.  
“What is that thing?” I asked as he picked it up and turned it over. There was only about an inch’s depth, and it had me stumped.  
“A canvas. I’m going to need to take this upstairs. Do you need me to do anything with that?” He pointed to the Cruxtruder.  
“Oh, yes please. Could you open it up? Also, I need to know if you have any fire.”  
“Any fire?” He paused, midway to the Cruxtruder, a concerned expression coming over his face.  
“Yeah, you know, fire. Matches, or I don’t know, flint and steel or something?”  
“Flint and steel, yeah,” he nodded, with a quick roll of his eyes. “I’ve got a whole bunch of that lying around, over with the rest of my boy scout stuff.”  
“There’s no need to be sarcastic. You knew what I meant.”  
“Sorry. Uh, my brother tends to leave their lighters laying around. They just keep buying more whenever they lose them all, you know? But whenever I come across any, I leave them on the table in the front hall. I’d check there.”  
“Thanks,” I said, watching as he reached up to get the wheel. It took a few tugs, but it popped open. There was a timer on the bottom, counting down. I was pretty sure I knew to what. It looked as if he had just shy of ten minutes remaining.

As he left the room, I panned through the downstairs of the house, searching for what looked like a front hall. Soon I found it, a table with all manner of stuff stacked upon it. Behind a pile of what looked to be bills, I saw a pair of cigarette lighters. It took some tricky work with the touch pad, but I eventually managed to pick one of them up and drop it into the kernel. With a flash of light, it vanished. I hoped that had been a good idea.  
“Alright I prototyped your kernel,” I said.  
“You did what now?”  
The navigation was becoming more natural to me, so I was able to quickly locate Tomas upstairs, in what I assumed to be his bedroom. It was on the smaller side, with an unmade bed pushed against one wall. Canvasses were stacked against another wall, all painted in similar colors, shades of gold against blue. A space had been cleared among the usual boy clutter for an easel, where he’d set up the blank canvas.  
“Sorry, it’s a game thing. You’ll understand once you read the note.” He nodded in response to me, preoccupied with preparing a palette of colors. “So you paint, huh? Alice never mentioned you were an artist.”  
“Yeah. I have these dreams, you know? I’ve had them ever since, well, when my parents died back when I was eight.”  
“Oh no! I’m sorry.”  
“You’re fine. It was a long time ago. Anyway, back then real life was so painful, and the dreams were so peaceful. So A, that’s my brother, they got me some supplies and started me painting, so I could bring a little bit of that peaceful atmosphere back into the real world with me.”  
“That’s so thoughtful. And they’re really quite good.” I wasn’t just saying that. Tomas had a talent for brushwork, painting these beautiful golden cityscapes from swirls and dabs of color. It was incredible how he showed depth by using just a few different shades.  
“Thanks.”

I watched as he selected a wide brush from a jar on the table and dipped it into the paint, laying the first strokes of dark blue down. It was mesmerizing to watch him work, but I soon realized that he was going far too slowly.  
“You’re going to have to hurry,” I said, moving downstairs to check the timer. “You only have eight minutes.”  
“It’s fine. I have to wait for A to get back, anyway. When I mentioned the Sburb launch was today they flipped out and ran out the door like they’d just remembered something they had to do. But they’re coming back.”  
“No, it’s not fine. You need to be ready to go, in eight minutes, whether or not your brother is back.”  
“I’m not leaving without them.” The snap in his voice echoed the splatter of his paint onto the canvas.  
“You’re not the only one of us who had to leave someone behind,” I said, my voice far more harsh than I intended. I tried to dial it back as I explained, but I think I only managed to sound angrier. “Alice’s dad, my grandfather — look, I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but I made a promise to see you safe. And I’m going to keep that promise, whether you like it or not.”  
“Fine,” he said, dropping the brush into a pot of water. “But I’m not going in early. I’m going to wait those eight minutes, give A a chance to make it back. I won’t leave them behind unless I absolutely have to.”  
“That’s fair. Thank you.”

I fell silent as I watched him paint, building layers of lighter blue and near-white atop the initial splash of darkness to form a sky with clouds. Then he switched hues to gold, starting again with a dim goldenrod that was built upon by brighter shades. I marveled at how the colors weren’t mixing, despite being applied one atop the other like that. Though I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised; it was a magic canvas after all, designed for a swift exit.

Speaking of swift exits, I dropped downstairs to check the time. There were only a minute remaining. Returning to his room, I saw he’d stopped painting. It was nearly done, the canvas pulsing gently with an otherworldly glow. The buildings were just a little too flat, though. He’d stopped, true to his word, just before the final highlighting strokes.  
“You’ve got a minute left,” I reported, and he nodded. Setting his brush and palette down, he walked to the window and lifted the blinds, leaving a golden smear behind.  
“I don’t see them yet. There’s still time.”  
“Not much time. You know as well as I do it’s not like the time when you have to start packing up your things to go. It’s the time the doors lock. If you miss it, that’s it.”  
“Yes, I fucking know that.” He spoke through clenched teeth, staring out the window. “But I’m not leaving, not as long as there’s a chance. A would never do that to me.”

But hadn’t he? It sure sounded that way to me. For all either of us knew, Tomas’s brother could be starting his very own game of Sburb as we spoke. Tomas was convinced he was coming back, that he’d somehow make it in time, but I wasn’t so sure. And the clock continued ticking down as he dallied.  
“Thirty seconds,” I said. How long was it going to take him to finish the painting? “Tomas, if you can’t see your brother coming by now—”  
“They’ll be here, okay?” He shook his head, his voice rough with worry as he raised his voice. “You said I could wait!”  
“You’re out of time. Fifteen seconds. It’s going to take you time to—”  
“Bullshit!” He shook his head again, his aggravated movements causing him to elbow a case of paints off the dresser. The box opened, and little colored tins rolled across the floor with a clatter. Muttering something I couldn’t make out, he yanked the ear piece out of his ear and flung it into the corner. I winced at the burst of chaotic sound, letting out a frustrated sigh as he looked out the window again, my voice in his ear effectively silenced.

Ten seconds. He wasn’t moving. I’d failed. I’d had one job, one promise to keep, and I hadn’t managed to do it. I’d done everything I could, hadn’t I? What more could I have said? Should I have lied to him, told him his brother was already in the game medium waiting for him? Surely that wasn’t right. But neither was letting him die like this. I tried to pick up the brush to do it myself, but the screen flashed red with an angry beep. Right. I hadn’t actually expected that to work, but I had to try.

Five seconds. I didn’t need to watch the clock anymore to count down, not those close to the end. Four. He just stood there, watching out the window. Three. His brother wasn’t coming, surely he had to know that. Two. I clenched my hands tightly around the edge of my laptop, my shoulders shaking with the tension of the moment. One. I kept my eyes open, so at least he wasn’t entirely alone.

Zero.

A deafening explosion cracked through my speakers, a brilliant flash of green light bursting through the window. Tomas turned away, shielding his eyes, the blinding light around him casting a long shadow across the room. But only for a second, then it was gone, replaced by a raucous clatter. He retreated away from the window, eyes wide as he took a deep, trembling breath.

Whatever had just happened did what I couldn’t. He turned away from the window, once again picking up the brush that I could not. As he raised his brush, another burst of green lit up the room, along with another explosion that threatened to rip my speakers apart. He shielded his eyes with the palette, applying the final touches with quick, deft strokes.

But was it fast enough? Heavy rumbling spilled from my speakers as a glow filled his bedroom. It was bright, far brighter than the green flashes from outside had been, and white, but in the way that metal heated far past red-hot was white. I closed my eyes, afraid of what I might see when the light cleared if he’d been too slow. If he hadn’t made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, I can write character descriptions after all. Only five chapters after they're originally introduced! Go me!
> 
> Bridget brings up an interesting idea that's a headcanon of mine, that many valid sessions might spawn from a single world which develops the sburb technology. I don't see any reason why that shouldn't be a thing, especially as it would avoid some of the issues with only certain cultures being accounted for.
> 
> Sometimes I amuse myself by imagining what commands I would type to make these scenes come out.  
> CA: Yeet irritating communication device.


	12. Kayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 11 of 12

The city was burning. I watched it from behind the windows, stacked from floor to ceiling. The alarm had long since ceased its wailing and flashing, and as far as I knew I was the only person still here. I’d hid from the security sweep beneath the old bleachers, left over from when they used to have performing dolphin shows in here. Now of course, they were only relics of a time long passed, back before we knew better.

I wasn’t okay. More than just the city was burning. All of humanity was burning, across the country and around the world. I’d been following the news until it had grown too bleak, then I’d put the laptop down and come over here. Dark smoke blotted out the sun, turning afternoon to an apocalyptic twilight, casting a red hue across everything. What had any of us done to deserve this?

So no, I wasn’t even remotely okay. In fact, I was, as Alex would say, effing PO-ed right now. I was angry at whatever was responsible for this, whether it was some cruel god who regarded us as mere playthings or simply the laws of astrophysics reaching an inevitable, impersonal conclusion. I knew I couldn’t be the only one still here, hiding as civilizations crumbled around us. There had to be others. But I couldn’t find them, blinded by smoke and failing technology.

Even more than that, I was angry at Natalya, for abandoning me when I needed her the most. Her, of all people, abandoning me in order to help strangers. I couldn’t say that to her, not when she’d challenged me like that. She’d intentionally backed me into a corner, giving me no choice but to claim to accept the situation. But I hadn’t, and I didn’t. And another thing, where was he, the guy at the end of the line who was supposed to connect to me? I’d been waiting, remarkably patiently given the situation, but all had been silent.

I turned away from the window, walking around the edge of the semi-circular pool back towards the bleachers where I’d left my stuff. Sitting back down, I woke my laptop up. There was still nothing, complete radio silence from everybody I knew and cared about. I forgave Daniel, because he had a good excuse. He was the only one. Alex was more interested in speaking to that monstrous spider, the pale one that phased through walls and made my skin crawl, than to me. And Natalya, well, she’d been the one wielding the knife that stabbed me in the first place. Of course she didn’t want to come back and talk to me about it.

What would it feel like, when the big one came? Would I hear it coming? Or would it catch me off guard, plunging me into sudden oblivion before I had the chance to be afraid? Would it hurt, when—

A chime rang out from the laptop beneath my hands, jarring me from my thoughts. Somebody was contacting me. I didn’t recognize the name. Was this who I’d been waiting for?

**LogicalStrategist:** Kayla Walker?  
 **ScholarAquatic:** Yes? Who’s this?  
 **LS:** I am Charles Robertson. I understand you require a server player in order to complete the team?  
 **SA:** Oh my god, yes! I’ve been waiting. Everything’s on fire, and I don’t know how long I have left.  
 **LS:** I’m initiating the connection now. Provided you follow my instructions exactly and without hesitation, you will survive.

Who did this guy think he was? Despite my relief at finally being contacted, at being saved, I felt myself bristle at his tone. He couldn’t have taken a moment to ask how I was holding up, or to explain why it had taken him so long to reach out to me? I flinched at the sound of heavy equipment deploying near the windows.

**LS:** I am deploying a Cruxtruder, an Alchemiter, and a pre-punched card.  
 **SA:** I know how this works.  
 **LS:** Good. Take your laptop with you.

I picked up my laptop and made my way back around the tank again, my breath quickening along with my pounding heart. This was it. It was really happening. I set the laptop down on the edge of the Alchemiter, clambering up onto the Cruxtruder. Alex’d had some trouble with this I remembered, but they were pretty scrawny. Even though I was a girl, I’d been carrying things around back rooms all summer. I could probably manage it.

I grasped the wheel tightly and pulled, gritting my teeth as it refused to budge, the shock of each tug running up and down my arms. Oof, that was tight! Adjusting my grip, I tried pulling downward, letting gravity help. Was it my imagination, or was it shifting? No, it wasn’t imaginary — it was really moving. I worked my hands around the wheel, turning it fractions of an inch at the time until it spun free, the flashing kernel bursting from the top of the tube.

I stepped down, catching my breath from the unexpectedly difficult exertion. Glancing down at the base of the Cruxtruder, a shiver ran through my body. There was a countdown, currently at 3:16. I knew exactly what that countdown was for, without even checking the list of impending meteor impacts Natalya had sent me earlier. It wasn’t much time at all. I glanced over to my laptop, which had messages waiting.

**LS:** Stop thinking about the time. I need you to focus, Kayla.  
 **LS:** What is the least deadly animal in this aquarium?  
 **SA:** Huh? I don’t know, not off the top of my head! I guess nothing with obvious teeth or spines, and avoid bright colors too, because those are usually poisonous.  
 **LS:** I require a specific species and location.  
 **SA:** Well I don’t have that kind of information, not with everything else that’s going on scrambling my brain!  
 **LS:** Never mind.  
 **SA:** What?  
 **LS:** I said, never mind. It’s irrelevant now.  
 **LS:** Use your pre-punched card in the Alchemiter.

Right. I forced myself to move, to pick up the card from where it sat and insert it into the slot. I took a deep breath and pushed the button. Something was visible hovering in midair above the platform, just for the briefest moment, and then it was gone. I couldn’t tell what it had been, only that it was made of some translucent lavender substance with broad, rounded curves. It had disappeared too quickly for me to see anything more.

I pushed the button again, but the machine only buzzed at me. I guess I only got one of whatever that had been. But where’d it go? I looked around, but didn’t see any sign of it. It had been a fairly distinctive color after all, so I’d know it if I saw it. But everything in the room was exactly as it had been. Worry gnawed at my stomach as I checked to see if my mysterious benefactor had seen where it went. Luckily, he had.

**LS:** It’s gone into the water. You need to hurry.

Well, he didn’t have to tell me twice. I looked towards the tank, just in time to see a splash of water as something distinctive slipped once more beneath the surface. Whatever it was appeared to be swimming in the dolphin tank. I climbed out to the platform, following the cement walkway out into the center of the tank. I could see something darting back and forth near the bottom. I was going to have to swim for it, wasn’t I?

I slipped off my shoes, placing my glasses inside them for safe keeping, and jumped into the water. I squinted my eyes open, peering into a world of pale, blurry blues. Where was it? I knew it was here, I’d seen it just a second ago! And I was out of air. I kicked off the bottom, propelling myself back to the surface for a gulp of air. I treaded water for a moment, wondering how to go about searching for whatever this was underwater and half-blind. But before I could think of a good plan, it found me instead.

An exquisitely-carved likeness of a dolphin rose from the water, regarding me with its blank, unmoving eye. I reached out and touched it, my hand slipping along the side of its head. Its “skin” was cool to the touch, but not cold. I felt no breath or pulse beneath my hand, as if I was touching a lifeless statue. And yet, it moved, darting away from me beneath the water. No, come back!

I took a quick gulp of air, then ducked under the water. It was still there, a purple blur just out of reach. I kicked off the side of the tank, reaching out and grasping whatever I could. I felt the curve of the dorsal fin beneath my fingers, and held on tight as it dove, dragging me through the water behind it. The muscles in my hands screamed at me, my iron grip all that was keeping me connected as we sped far beneath the surface of the water.

The tank wasn’t this deep, I realized. Where were we going, and how? My lungs burned, demanding air, but even if I let go now I’d never make it back to the surface in time. I was dragged through the water as if caught in a raging current, no longer in control of anything, my eyes shut tight to protect them from the rush of water. I felt strangely weightless for a moment, then I lost my grip, floating away from the current that had dragged me under.

Then, I felt concrete beneath my hands. I was on the bottom of the tank. I needed air, desperately. I pushed myself up, kicking with every last scrap of strength I possessed. Tilting my face up, I saw light, real untainted daylight, coming closer. Then, I was out. I gasped, choking as I bobbed beneath the surface again. My grasping hand found the edge of the tank and I pulled myself up, clutching the side as I breathed precious air, water streaming down my face and arms. I was alive. I’d made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soundtrack for the apocalypse? [Warszawa by Bowie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAD1j32TiiY), of course.
> 
> I don't actually know if the bleachers are still in the old dolphin show room(now a dolphin exhibit, I think the re-homing was cancelled so they should still be there) at the national aquarium. Probably not. Chalk that one up to the weird alternate universe thing we've got going on here, I guess.


	13. Yana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/5/20 update part 12 of 12

The world was dying around me, and all I could do was sit here and wait. I’d been following any broadcast I could get my hands on, distracting myself to feel less alone. There’d been one from down in the United States, but nobody had moved in their parliament building for a long time, not since the suits had arrived and the shooting started. It was just bodies now. Bodies and all that blood, soaking through the blue carpet. I didn’t even know how the broadcast was still playing after all of that, but I was afraid to turn it off, to sever my final link with the dying world outside.

Ever since I’d downloaded the Sburb client this morning, my life had been a nonstop ride of emotional ups and downs. An hour ago, I would have sworn I was dead, that there was no way I could ever fix this in time. But then I’d been saved, plucked out of the jaws of a fate that seemed inevitable.

It had been about an hour ago. I’d been sitting in front of the computer, absolutely spent. I’d been banging my head against the problem for ages, but it was nothing like the usual tests my Mom left for me. This was the real deal, the final exam. And I’d failed. Whatever it took, I didn’t have it. I’d long since run dry on ideas, my frantic pleas on tech support boards across the internet garnering no useful replies. The command line blinked before me, displaying my half-finished ultimate command in luminous green text:

> login -asv burkovan

The last argument, the password, was still missing, the final, elusive key that I’d been unable to locate, reset or bypass. The only hint I had was a single, cryptic clue, which I surely had to be mistranslating from the original Russian, because it made no sense. I sighed, snuggling myself deeper into my hoodie to ward off the chill. That’s when I saw it. A word, above the command prompt I’d been typing at. A word that I could’ve sworn hadn’t been there just moments before.

hello

I leaned forward, shoving my hair back out of my face as I studied the word. I’d worked with the mainframe a lot over the years, and this was the first time it had ever talked to me. Mom wasn’t really one to go for conversational AI, you know? That meant only one thing. Hope swelled in my chest as I deleted everything I’d written, typing something else instead, then hit execute.

> Mom?

The prompt blinked for a few moments before a reply came. Not the one I’d been expecting, I realized, my heart sinking.

fuck  
i think were looking for the same person  
> Sorry.  
dont be  
not your fault  
youre the daughter then  
> Yeah, you know about me?  
> And my Mom?  
yeah  
been out of touch a while  
long while  
thought we could talk again before all this blew to hell  
shouldve fucking known better  
i dont get that kind of luck

I nibbled on the edge of my lip, not sure how to respond to that. This was clearly a real person, someone else stranded out there. But who? To my knowledge, my Mom never corresponded with anyone. It had always been just me and her, all alone out here in the middle of nowhere.

so why you looking  
> I need to get away from here before I get blown up, but her firewall won’t let me accept incoming connections.  
paranoid bitch  
sorry go on  
> No it’s ok, it’s true.  
> I can’t get past the login though, because I don’t know her password.  
> I’ve worked out it has to be numeric and eight digits long, but I don’t have time to crack it by force.  
> And the only hint is cryptic as hell.  
sounds about right  
fuck it im early  
nothing to shoot at yet  
try me  
whats paranoid bitch got for us  
> “On this day, we all mourn the beginning of the end.”  
> Which doesn’t really bring anything to mind.  
like hell she knew what day that was  
none of us couldve known that  
maybe robertson but he wont tell shit  
is that what she wrote for real  
> Well not exactly.  
> See, she wrote it in Russian.  
> But my Russian must be fucky or she made a typo or something, because what I actually get makes even less sense.  
> So it has to be wrong.  
wait  
translate it as she wrote it  
exactly  
> Uh ok.  
> “On this day, we all mourn the end of the beginning.”  
> But that thing at the end isn’t right.  
> The saying is “beginning of the end,” so I think one of us made a mistake and it’s backwards.  
no its right  
05122011  
> What’s that, a date?  
yeah  
a lifetime ago  
> Are you sure that’s it?  
the end of the beginning  
yeah  
im sure

I re-typed the login command, adding the date as the final parameter: May 12, 2011. That date held absolutely no significance to me. I’d been eight years old, and couldn’t remember anything happening even around that year, let alone that specific day.

My finger hovered over the execute button. There was no going back from this if I was wrong. The system would lock up tight for even a single wrong attempt, a lesson I’d learned well over the years. But I didn’t have any other ideas. It was either this, or give up and die. So, before I could think myself out of it, I hit execute. The system appeared to hang for a moment as it processed the command, then I was greeted with a navigation menu. I was in.

Did it work  
> OMG yes!  
> Thank you SO much.  
> You just saved my life, you have no idea.  
bullshit  
youre saving your own life  
> Well I’m not doing a very good job of it so far.  
nah youre fine  
weve been over this  
your moms a fucking lunatic with enough paranoia to run a cold war all by herself  
you never stood a chance  
no shame in that  
i just gave you a fair fight is all  
> You didn’t have to do that, so thank you.  
> I wish I could do something to help you back, instead of leaving you behind.  
> You don’t happen to be from around here, do you?  
like shed tell me where she went to ground  
ive got no fucking clue  
but probably not  
> What are you going to do?  
dont worry about me  
i have shit to settle here  
wait  
actually yeah you can do something for me  
> What?  
when you see him again can you tell my brother  
tell him  
im sorry i couldnt stay for breakfast  
and im proud of him  
so fucking proud he has no idea  
and he’d better beat the fuck out of that game for me  
> Your brother?  
> Do you mean Tomas?  
yeah  
ok shits incoming  
its go time here  
take care of him for me  
im out

What the fuck? I knew Tomas lived with his older brother. Well, his "fake brother," at least. But what were they doing sneaking off at the end of the world to chat with my Mom? How did the two of them even know each other? I had so many questions!

> Wait!

I slammed my hands down against the console in frustration as my message errored back as undeliverable. I didn’t understand what had just happened at all. I believed every word of it, of course. They knew enough about me and Tomas, and about my Mom too, that I believed them. But believing it didn’t mean I was anywhere close to understanding it. How was it all connected?

Still, there was nothing else to do but to get ready for what would come. So that’s what I did. I navigated to the firewall and made the necessary changes, trivial enough now that I had access, and then I waited. And waited. And waited some more. That’s where I was now, a bundle of nervous energy just waiting to explode at the touch of a spark. I was ready to go. I wanted out of here.

The only problem was, I couldn’t get in touch with Tomas. Every message I’d sent since then just sat there. It said he was online on mobile, but he wasn’t replying, and Houston had long since been wiped off the map I was referencing. He was either dead, or inside the game. When his reply finally came, flashing up on my laptop’s screen in orange text, I was so relieved that I could barely type my reply.

**CulinaryArtisan:** Sorry the game was downloading  
 **CA:** I made it in though  
 **CriticalGuru:** OMG I’m so glad.  
 **CG:** I was worried about you.  
 **CA:** A didn’t make it  
 **CG:** Yeah, I know.  
 **CG:** I’m sorry.

I wasn’t going to elaborate on how I knew that, or share the message I’d been asked to pass along. Not yet. I’d downloaded it for safe keeping, but right now it would just be a distraction. I’d give it to him once we were both in the game together, and could afford to rest. Luckily he seemed willing to overlook my strange ability to know things I shouldn’t, at least for now.

**CA:** I have to keep going  
 **CA:** Have to bring you in, right?  
 **CG:** Yeah, try connecting now.  
 **CA:** Alright  
 **CA:** Yeah it worked  
 **CA:** Wow what the fuck where do you even live  
 **CG:** Canada?  
 **CA:** That’s not what I meant and you know it  
 **CG:** Look I’ll explain later.  
 **CG:** Let’s just focus for now.  
 **CA:** Okay yeah sorry  
 **CA:** I’m just gonna move these plants to make room  
 **CG:** NO!  
 **CG:** Don’t touch the plants please.  
 **CA:** Well where else do I put this stuff?  
 **CA:** It’s really big, all your hallways are narrow, and your rooms are small and full of stuff  
 **CG:** There’s an airlock on the upper level.  
 **CG:** There should be enough room to set up in there.  
 **CG:** Can we switch to voice?  
 **CA:** Sorry, can’t find my bluetooth  
 **CG:** Ok, no big deal.  
 **CG:** I’ll head upstairs, BRB.

I slung my rifle back over my shoulder and closed my laptop. I’d scouted out possible playing locations long before today, and the airlock was unfortunately the only viable option. Once we were in the game, he could afford the cost to use the server tools to create a special room for the equipment, but until then we had to work with what we had. Luckily, the airlock had been designed to efficiently move large quantities of supplies in and out. While it would be cramped for sure, we’d just about fit.

As I ran through the bunker complex, I heard and felt the impact of meteors overhead. Not the big one though, not yet. But I understood now why Mom had built so deep underground. It had always struck me as silly, having to go so deep just to hide. But now I was grateful for the layers of soil and rock overhead that muffled the assault, buying me time.

I was used to navigating my all-too-vertical home, but even I got out of breath ascending from the bottom all the way to the top. It was a lot of ladders. Tomas had finished setting up by the time I got there, so I got straight to work. The Cruxtruder popped open with a bit of elbow grease, helped along by a healthy side of fearing for my life. As the kernel floated overhead, I inserted the card into the Alchemiter and hit the button.

The item generated was small, about the size and shape of an old school video game cartridge. NES, I thought, as I picked it up and looked it over. But it was unmarked, with no indication of what game might lie inside. Still, the way to find out was pretty obvious. Back down into the hallways I went, this time with the cartridge tucked away in my back pocket.

I swung myself down into my bedroom, letting myself fall the last couple feet to the ground rather than wasting time climbing down the ladder properly. Pulling the old NES from my shelf next to the other consoles I’d collected, I found the end of the cord and plugged it into my tv set. Before I got down to business, I opened my laptop to check back in with Tomas.

**CA:** I prototyped your kernel, so you’re good to go whenever you’re ready  
 **CG:** You’re the best!  
 **CG:** What did you put in it?  
 **CA:** That stuffed unicorn you had sitting on your bed

I glanced over my shoulder towards the pile of pillows and blankets. Sure enough, the plush unicorn I’d had — and treasured — since I was a little girl was missing.

**CG:** Oh no, you put Waterfalls in the kernel?  
 **CG:** What will I ever do without him?

I was only teasing, of course. It was just a stuffed toy, nothing to get torn up over. It might have bothered me when I was a kid, but not anymore.

**CA:** You named your unicorn Waterfalls?  
 **CA:** That’s a weird name for a unicorn  
 **CG:** Pretty sure anything’s a weird name for a unicorn, since they don’t even exist!  
 **CG:** IDK I just thought the two things went together.  
 **CG:** You know, because they’re both cool, and I’ve never seen either of them.  
 **CA:** You’ve never seen a waterfall?  
 **CG:** I don’t exactly get out much.  
 **CA:** I guess  
 **CA:** That’s kind of sad, though  
 **CA:** I’m going to make sure you see a waterfall one day  
 **CG:** I’ll hold you to that, but first I need to make it through this alive.  
 **CA:** Right  
 **CG:** See you on the other side!

I closed the laptop, setting it aside and picking up the controller in its place. Let’s do this thing. I inserted the mystery cartridge, and a familiar logo popped up on the screen. Sweet, it was the original Legend of Zelda! That was a good one. I hoped I wouldn’t have to play through the entire game, though. I didn’t think I had that long.

I began to play. It soon became obvious that this wasn’t the Zelda I knew. For one, Link wasn’t a brunette wearing a dark blue, flared dress. Also, he should have been presented with a sword, not a brown stick. A brown stick that shot little bullets, I realized, as I tried out the attack function. This also wasn’t the normal starting zone. In fact, this looked like the final dungeon. At least that would save some time. I pushed the button to advance through the dungeon, watching my little blue Link scurry along, pixel rifle held at the ready.

As I entered the final boss room, chiptune music spilling ominously from my speakers, a dark figure appeared for just a moment before vanishing from my sight with a twirl of its dark cloak. I guess that was the boss, though it didn’t look a thing like Ganon. I moved forward, preparing for the assault of fireballs I knew was coming, only to see five more pixelated characters emerge from behind my own Link, flanking me.

One was dressed in a bright red tunic with a darker red hood, wielding what looked to be twin daggers. Another was robed in black, with a cowl drawn low over their face and a short blade held in one hand. There was also one wearing a reddish-brown hood and long tunic, with a thicker, longer brown weapon — a club, perhaps? On the other side, a figure robed in pale yellow with gold trim carried a bow. The final figure was dark skinned, wore a short light blue tunic with a matching conical hat, and carried a straight gray stick. Well, this was different.

I didn’t have any more time to ponder the sudden change in game mechanics, because the fireballs began to fly. We were on! It was harder than I remembered, the attacks coming in faster than usual. It also felt like the boss was moving around a lot more than usual, making it harder to back him into a corner. Then again, I had a ranged weapon and five other heroes on my side, so it wasn’t just him who had an advantage.

I caught my tongue between my teeth, focusing on directing my character. Thankfully the others took care of themselves, moving around to dodge attacks and flank the boss of their own accord. The lights overhead flickered as a particularly violent impact landed above, but I ignored it. The power wouldn’t fail. It couldn’t.

Finally, the boss began to flash, but before I could land the final blow to defeat him he disappeared. The door at the far side of the room opened, though. Victory, I guess? I went through, followed by the other party members, who spread out behind me like an honor guard. But this room was all wrong.

This was supposed to be the prison room, where Zelda waited behind a wall of fire. But instead, there was a pulsing circle behind a wall of dark shapes. I squinted, scooting closer to the tv in an attempt to make something out of the pixels. They looked like little pinwheels, slowly cycling through a spinning animation. I fired my character’s rifle, and the pinwheel I’d aimed at vanished. I entered the prison cell, stepping on top of the flashing thing.

As I did so, it expanded to fill the entire screen. Now I recognized it! It was the spinning, pulsing shape that adorned the Sburb installation screen, the kind you could make with a spirograph kit. A flash of light came from my tv, flooding out to envelop me and everything else as I entered the game medium, leaving our old, dying world behind.

**End of Act 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To ensure that it's clear, yes, we have two separate teams operating independently of each other. I will be using the names green team(meaning the team Yana is on) and purple team(meaning the team Kayla is on) to tell them apart, because that was my old color-coding convention from back in 2015.
> 
> This is it for act 1, and the end of my first update! I'm aiming to post more every Friday, in much shorter chunks. It'll probably be a chapter at a time, maybe two if they're on the shorter side. I hope others enjoy these characters and their adventures as much as I have!


	14. Kayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/10/20 update
> 
> Added substance use/abuse to content warnings, because I forgot that was a thing when I wrote them.

I heaved myself out of the tank, thin braids plastered to my face and neck as I crawled over to where I’d left my glasses, leaving a trail of puddles in my wake. Unfolding them and placing them on my face, I looked around. It was broad daylight now, with no sign of the burning city skyline out the windows. In fact, all I could see out the window was a deep blue ocean, set against the backdrop of a cloudless sky.

I wiped my wet hands on my sodden shorts, the gesture rooted in habit but embarrassingly futile. But I remembered I had a towel in my bag. Carrying my shoes back to the bleachers, I took my time drying off. After all, there was no more rush. The game itself seemed to be relatively peaceful so far compared to what had come before. Only once I’d traded constant drips of water for a mere uncomfortable dampness, and mopped up the puddle that had accumulated beneath my feet, did I carry my things back over to the Alchemiter where my laptop waited for me. As I woke the machine, a message appeared immediately.

**LogicalStrategist:** Good, you are back.  
**ScholarAquatic:** I was drying off. Electronics don’t exactly get along with seawater, and the last thing either of us needs is for me to fry my laptop.  
**LS:** Of course. But you need to remain focused. The danger has not yet passed, and you must move swiftly.  
**SA:** What do you mean? I thought I was safe from the meteors once I got into the game.  
**LS:** Yes, this is accurate. You face a peril of a different sort, however. You should look out the window.

I turned, facing the wall of windows. All I could see was water, stretching toward the horizon in every direction, as far as the eye could see. Water, more water and — wait. What was that? I frowned, stepping over to kneel beside the glass. That dark strip at the bottom of the windows hadn’t been there before. It fluctuated, rising up and down the glass along with the ebb and flow of waves across the surface of the water. That wasn’t good. I returned to my computer, a new sense of urgency in my quick steps.

**SA:** I’m sinking.  
**LS:** This is correct. However, you are not sinking as quickly as you ought to be, and that can be turned to our advantage.  
**SA:** How? It just means I’ll die slower, unless there’s land out there I can’t see!  
**LS:** I see no land in any direction. The game itself appears to be protecting you, however. You should be sinking faster, but you are not. The lower levels should be flooding, and they are, but at a significantly slower rate than they ought to be. This tells me that we have been deliberately given time to locate and implement a solution to your peril.  
**SA:** Okay? What exactly does that mean for me, right here and right now?  
**LS:** We must take the advantage we have been given and stretch it to its furthest potential. You must return to the main building. Do you know the way back?  
**SA:** Of course.  
**LS:** Good. Take everything with you, and remember you still have yet to choose a weapon.

The weapon, right. I’d been thinking it over, and I hadn’t come up with any good ideas. We didn’t really keep weapons here at the aquarium. And, unlike certain other people I knew, I didn’t have anything obvious laying around the house to pick up and use, not that I knew the first thing about firing a gun even if I could get my hands on one. I’d figured I would wind up with something makeshift. Anything could be a club, right?

I packed my stuff quickly, keeping my phone in hand, and hefted the bag onto my back. Leaving here would mean leaving all the game equipment Charles had deployed behind, but what choice did I have? Maybe I could get new ones later, in a safer place. Keeping an ear out for messages on my phone, I hurried out of the abandoned exhibit.

Stepping into the hall, I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm, to remember the way out one step at a time. I was over on pier four, so that meant I had to go across the raised walkway that connected the two wings. As I turned down the hallway, something drew my attention over to the restrooms. A yellow janitor’s cart sat abandoned, bottles and rags spilling from the pockets. That wasn’t what had caught my eye, though. What I’d spotted was the mop that leaned askew, towering above the bucket.

**SA:** I think I might have found a weapon I can use.  
**LS:** Very good. I can activate the allocation process from my end.

I walked over to the bucket and lifted the mop, feeling the cool metal handle beneath my hands. It was an old-style mop, the kind with a mess of knotted rags on the end. It would look a little silly for sure, but the handle was long enough to keep things at a distance, and that was what mattered. It had a good heft to it too, at least I thought so. But what did I know?

**SA:** So that’s what, Mopkind? What do you think?  
**LS:** I think that would be a terrible idea. Why would you pick that, of all things, for a weapon?  
**SA:** It’s not that bad, it makes a lot of sense. Besides, I’m stuck with it now that I picked it up, right?  
**LS:** Of course not. I anticipated you might try to pick up something idiotic, so obviously I did not select the allocation option until I verified what it was.

I clenched my teeth at the insult. It wasn’t idiotic, it made perfect sense! It also made sense to wait, I knew that, especially after what I’d heard about the accidental allocation of Daniel’s weapon choice. But he could have explained it, rather than talking down to me!

**SA:** It’s not idiotic. I’m a teenager, not a soldier. I don’t know how to fight with anything. It’s light enough for me to carry, but big enough to fend stuff off with, and I bet a good whack with the business end could take something out.  
**SA:** It’s just as good a choice as, if not better than, anything else I might find around here! If you’re so smart, then tell me what I could have picked up that was better.  
**LS:** I apologize, perhaps I judged too hastily. You’re not wrong, in that there are elements which do work in your favor. The overall form, however, is less than optimal. To that effect, I have a suggestion: unscrew the mop head.  
**SA:** Why? What will that do?  
**LS:** I believe removing the aspect which gives the object the quality one would identify as a “mop” will force the allocation process to reassess, and come to a more favourable conclusion as to the nature of the object. Humour me, please.

Fine. I’d humor the guy. I twisted the connector, holding the end away from my face as the strings swung out. After a few spins it came loose, falling to the floor with a clatter. I now held only the shaft of the mop, a long pole nearly as tall as I was. This was what he’d wanted, right?

**LS:** It worked as I predicted. You have been allocated Staffkind, which you should find to be significantly more useful. You should keep moving.

I didn’t reply, holding my phone in one hand and the mop handle in the other as I set a brisk pace through the deserted halls. As I approached the walkway that would take me to the main part of the aquarium, I realized something was wrong. It was too bright. There were windows, sure, but not that many windows, and I smelled the sharp scent of salt. I approached the archway, gasping at the sight.

Where there had previously been a covered walkway, there was now a wide gap, too far to jump. Something had hit the building, shearing straight through, leaving behind jagged beams and shattered glass. I approached the edge, then quickly stepped back as a wave broke against the floor, adding another inch to the soaked carpet. I couldn’t swim that, not with electronics. I was trapped.

**SA:** Look what happened! It must have been one of the smaller meteors, back before I entered. What do I do now?  
**LS:** Step away from the edge.

I complied, moving further away from the splintered edge. My eyes widened as a portion of the carpeted floor grew to extend across the gap, as if by magic. Had Charles done that? I knew the player acting as the server was supposed to be able to “revise” the client player’s environment, but I hadn’t really thought about what that might entail. Knowing there was no time to waste, I took a deep breath, stepping forward onto the path that had been produced for me.

The gap had to be nearly fifteen feet wide, and the bridge was narrow, perhaps only two feet wide. I shuffled along, planting my feet securely and keeping an eye out for more of those waves. Twice, water washed across the bridge, soaking my ankles. Each time I kept my balance, sinking low in a wide stance. When I reached the far side, I sighed in relief. No more of that, please. At the very least, a handrail would have been nice.

**LS:** Good job.  
**SA:** Thank you. What now?  
**LS:** You will need to ascend to the highest point of this building, which I’ve identified as the triangular glass exhibit with the trees directly above you.

I knew exactly which one he was talking about from his description: the rain forest exhibit. But that was his grand plan to save me? Getting to high ground? Well hello captain obvious, I could have thought of that one all by myself!

**SA:** Won’t I just be trapped up there once the water rises? I thought you said you had a plan.  
**LS:** No. If you read again, you will find that I said no such thing. For now, we are merely buying time so that I may think of a plan. If you have a better idea, please do share.  
**SA:** I don’t. But if I’m going to wind up trapped, I need to get some things first. There’s no telling when I’ll see a shop again.  
**LS:** Of course, that is sensible. Collect what you need, but be quick about it. Remember, the water is continuing to rise.

After that trip across the bridge, he didn’t need to tell me twice. I switched to a light jog, slowing as the hall opened up into the main atrium. The escalators were dead, no doubt due to the water already filling the level below. I navigated carefully down the incline, hesitating before stepping into the flood waters, but there was no way around it. The water reached halfway up my calves, instantly re-flooding my shoes as I waded into it.

It was cold too, a chill that made my ankles ache, creeping farther up the bones of my legs as I sloshed my way through the deep shadows. Outside the windows, this level was already entirely submerged, a layer of water blocking the daylight from entering. Yet, I could still see a light outside, a faint white glow reminiscent of bio-luminescence. It seemed to be coming from the outside of the building itself somehow, manifesting only as it slipped below the waves.

Luckily, I didn’t have far to go to reach the snack bar. I moved behind the counter, surveying the options. Much of the food was hot, or had been before this place had been abandoned, but there were some pre-packaged non-perishables. I loaded some bottled water into the bottom of my backpack, replacing my jacket on top of them, and packed the snacks on top. That would have to do.

The backpack was now heavy enough that I struggled under the weight, but at least I had enough supplies to survive for a few days, provided I was smart about it. As I turned to splash my way back to the escalators, I shivered, realizing the water had added another inch or so just in the short time I’d spent down here. I was glad to climb out of it, using the handrail to assist in hauling myself and my burden upwards, toward drier floors.

It was a long way up. I ascended ramp after ramp, trying not to think about how the creatures in the tanks surrounding me would suffer, if not from the ocean water — many of them required fresh, if not climate-controlled tanks — then from suffocation as their filtration systems failed in the confined tanks. My heart ached to help them, but it was all I could do right now to help myself. I knew this, but it still hurt like the thrust of a knife each time I averted my eyes.

By the time I reached the rain forest exhibit, enclosed within three triangular walls of windows that came together in a point far overhead, I was badly out of breath. But at least I was out of reach of the water, for now. I got as close to the glass walls as the walkway would allow, looking out at the boundless sea as tropical birds called out in chorus above me. It was truly an awe-inspiring sight, or at least it would have been if I could have forgotten the situation I was in.

Forcing myself to turn away from the scene, I slipped out of my backpack, allowing it to thump to the floor. I needed to find an outlet, one that hadn’t yet failed under the rising flood waters, if I wanted to keep the charge up on my lifelines. There was no telling when I’d get another chance. If there was one thing I’d learned so far here, it was that I definitely wasn’t anywhere that worked like the world I knew. Not anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here begins the invasion of the British spelling, which I'm sure I'll mangle horribly. I can barely keep track of American spelling, let alone all those extra U's! If any U's are missing where they ought to be present(such as when characters who speak British English are typing), it's safe to assume it was author error.
> 
> For someone who doesn't play all that many RPGs, Kayla is showing some surprising genre savvy here. Everybody knows you have to buy the shops out(or, well, pillage them), because you never know when you'll come across the next one! That's wisdom right up there with saving all your potions for the big boss fight...not this one, the next one...maybe his second form...


	15. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/17/20 update

My house never used to have a gaping hole in it. At one point in the very near past, I had been living a normal life, in a normal house, minding its own normal business in the outskirts of normal bloody Swansea. But now, I was at the mercy of a complete stranger who had just ripped the wall off my Mum’s office. Why? Because I’d said it was a tad difficult to fully see out the window.

**DigitalHorticulturist:** Better now?  
 **MartialLibrarian:** To be honest, that was maybe not necessary.  
 **DH:** What? It’s a balcony. Fancy!  
 **ML:** But aren't balconies supposed to have railings?  
 **ML:** This is just a hole.

I leaped back as a fence appeared out of nowhere, spanning the hole in my house. It still wasn’t really a balcony, but whatever. I was afraid if I argued any more, my house would wind up getting further demolished. It was probably best to just cut my losses and deal with it.

**DH:** There, balcony. Now what do you see?

I stepped over to the railing, peering out into the darkness. Light spilled from the downstairs windows of the house, illuminating ashen shades of blue that formed a path. Along the path, ornately carved lamp posts flickered and spluttered, fading out to nothing the farther away they stood, until they were swallowed entirely by shadows.

**ML:** Not a lot. Mostly just dark.  
 **ML:** It’s in the name though, Land of Keys and Shadows, right?  
 **DH:** Where are the keys?  
 **ML:** Probably I need to find them.  
 **DH:** Oh. I thought yours would be exciting.  
 **ML:** Sorry, no giant floating keys, or whatever you were hoping for.  
 **ML:** What’s your land?  
 **DH:** Dust and Stone.

That sounded pretty boring and awful. I wasn’t going to say that, though. Who knows, maybe she liked rocks and dust? I wasn’t going to judge on that. To each their own, after all.

**DH:** You gonna go look for keys?  
 **ML:** In a bit, maybe.  
 **DH:** Lame. I’m going exploring. Back later.

I was okay with that. She — Natalya, she’d said her name was, I had to remember that — was kind of intense. Just a wee bit. There were supposed to be three other people on her team, from what she’d told me. I wondered if they were all like that. Charlie was enough of a handful, thanks. Oh, and speak of the devil.

**LogicalStrategist:** Are you getting on alright?  
 **MartialLibrarian:** Eh. My server player just put a hole in my house.  
 **LS:** I do not think I need to remind you whose fault that is. I wanted to play as a duo. You were the one who brought outsiders in.  
 **ML:** I had to, you know that. The thing wouldn’t run.  
 **LS:** I was looking for a solution for you. I would have found one, if you would have trusted me instead of running off to seek assistance elsewhere.  
 **ML:** Maybe. The clock kept ticking down and I got scared, alright?  
 **ML:** Anyway, it’s done. It’s over. I can’t undo it.  
 **LS:** Indeed. At any rate, this was not what I intended to speak about.

I breathed deep, welcoming the change of subject. I’d known Charlie would be angry the moment I’d sought outside help. The thing was, despite what I’d said to him just now, I hadn’t believed he’d be able to solve my connection problem. He was smart, absolutely brilliant in fact, but he was hardly what you might call tech support. On the other hand, Natalya knew computers back and front; for all her strange ways, you had to give her that.

**ML:** Oh?  
 **LS:** I need an octopus identified.  
 **ML:** Well, I can try. What can you tell me about it?  
 **LS:** It is brown.

Well, that was something to start with at least. Though I seemed to remember something about at least one species of octopus being able to change colors, so perhaps it wasn’t as solid of a start as it sounded at first. As I stood there, waiting for more, I realized that was all Charlie was going to tell me.

**ML:** That’s hardly enough.  
 **LS:** Unfortunately, it is all I have. I failed to get a good look at it before it threw itself into the kernel. If my observation is true that the enemies we will face take on the properties of what has been placed inside the kernels, it is vital that the species be identified.  
 **ML:** I can look into it. I’ll give it my best shot.  
 **LS:** Thank you, Jamie. You have always come through for me before, and I trust you will again.

I lowered the phone, shaking my head. I wasn’t at all confident I’d be able to find the answers he was looking for. The internet was still working, though I noticed was connected to something called Skaianet rather than the normal mobile network. I guessed I’d have to collect a list then, and take out everything that wasn’t brown. Charlie might grump about it, but he had to know his question was unrealistic. A shortlist of possibilities was really the best I’d be able to do.

As I started to walk back to my room, I heard a snatch of music coming from behind me. That damned flute, again. I’d thought Charlie’s keepsake music box was a good choice to put in the kernel, because who doesn’t like a bit of music, right? But it was eerie, unsettling in a way that made the hairs on my arms stand up. And it was coming closer.

I turned, looking back out over the makeshift balcony. I couldn’t see any of the monsters down there, not right now. But it really did sound like it was right here, directly beneath—

I stumbled backwards as a red- and gold-armored thing, twined with vines, shot up before me to hover in midair. Between the gaps in the armor, I could see the bloated, pale form. Legs, too many legs, found purchase around the rail, pulling it up and over. Two sucker-lined tentacles reached for me as arachnid mouth-parts clicked, clear venom dribbling down onto the floor.

A strangled yell burst from my throat, trained instinct taking over as I twisted away, pulling my hands back to my waist. As it leapt, I threw my punch across my body, using the force of my twist to drive the motion. My knuckles connected with the center of the chest plate, driving the thing backwards. It screamed back at me, tentacles and spider legs grasping for purchase. Ignoring the pain radiating up my arm, I struck again with my other hand, driving up from below. Flutes wailed as it lost its grip, toppling backwards.

I gasped, holding the railing tight as I peered down. I guessed I’d killed it. There was no body left behind; all I could see below was a scattering of colored orbs that I recognized from the game review. They were called grist, or something like that. I knew I was supposed to collect it for some reason. I think it had to do with the building system she’d used to rip my house apart.

My knuckles smarted something awful. Natalya’s comment that I should have found a real weapon echoed in my ears as I made my way down the stairs, but it was too late for that now. I was already allocated. Maybe I could find something to lessen the blow, if I was going to be spending much time punching things that were wearing armored breastplates. My protective sparring gear would be useless, but there might be other options.

Oh, and I also had to ask Natalya to please use some of that grist I’d just punched up and put the wall back. The very last thing I needed at this point was holes in my defense, even if they did take the form of fancy balconies. I didn’t want any more of those horror shows crawling up into my space, not before I was good and ready for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've, uh, got to be careful what you chuck in the seizure kernel. Things can get really horrifying REALLY quickly.
> 
> Hi Jamie! This is the only character who I accidentally-intentionally named after somebody. I needed a placeholder name for a character, and temporarily borrowed the name of an old Welsh friend of mine because the nationalities matched. It turns out the name was pretty much perfect, and wound up sticking. Now I can't imagine him ever being called anything else. Oops.
> 
> Fun fact: during initial planning, all characters had chat handles with roots in mythology, like Bridget's ArtemisArcher. By the time I'd reached the first draft, only two of those initial chat handles remained; Alex, of all people, had the other. Unfortunately, theirs didn't survive to the second draft.


	16. Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/24/20 update

“…It’s all I have to tell, and I hope you can sleep well,” I sat next to Mimi’s bed, one hand resting gently on the covers as I sung her quietly to sleep. It was silent outside, the lightest of breezes passing through the open window to brush across her closed eyes. “Because this is a song, for a girl named Mi-Yong. I won’t tell you wrong, it’s gotten kinda long. So I must say so long, to the girl, they call, Mi-Yong…”

I let my voice trail off, transitioning smoothly into silence. Good, she was asleep, and seemed to be staying that way. I’d been running out of words to rhyme together, and it had been starting to get a bit Pythonesque towards the end there. It had taken forever to get her down for bed. Apparently she’d lost her favorite stuffed animal, Mr Bobbles, while she was out. And of course neither the rag doll princess nor the plush dragon would do. Nope, it had to be the rabbit.

In the end, I’d convinced her that I’d stay right here with her, and she’d accepted the presence of her big brother as a substitute. But man, of all the days for her to misplace that stupid rabbit. My bad timing was mocking me now, laughing in my face. I turned away from her bed, towards the door, and ran my hands back over my head, pressing my dense short-cropped hair down against my skull. I had so much in my brain right now, it felt like it was going to explode out of my skull. I had to focus on the priorities.

Primarily, I had to secure the house. There were supposed to be enemies around, soon if not already, and with my weapon allocation I wasn’t in any state to fight them. My best bet would be to play defensively, turtling up and using combat only as a last resort. I’d need to bring Alex in on this, as only they had access to the build tools. Guilt stabbed me as I realized that I hadn’t been in contact with the rest of the team for a few hours. I had to—

Something shot past, missing my face by mere inches, silent until it embedded itself in Mimi’s closet door with a light thwap! It was dark and curved, with a folded bit of paper attached to one end. I could only stare for a moment, then looked back over my shoulder. The floor of Mimi’s room was littered with small orbs of many colors. Whatever had just happened, thankfully she’d slept right through it.

I crouched down, reaching out to touch the nearest orb. As my fingertips drew near, all half dozen of them shot towards me, faster than I could pull away. As they touched my fingers they vanished as if they’d been absorbed, a faint prickle like static charge the only sign of their passage. I stood back up, working the tingling sensation out of my fingers. I should get that note. It had a lot of explaining to do.

I turned back to the closet, grasping the thing firmly in my hand before I pulled it out of the wood. It was a batarang, both wingtips razor sharp. I carefully removed the paper, but before I could do anything with the batarang it suddenly wasn’t anymore. Instead I held a playing card, the nine of diamonds. I flipped it over, eyebrows rising at the Dark Knight logo on the back side. That was weird. Slipping it into my pocket, I returned my attention to the note.

“Dan—  
Car keys, dude. CAR KEYS. This is not a drill. First, close that window. I’ll wait.”

Okay, not only was that my handwriting, but that was my code phrase to myself that time travel was real and I was talking from the future. I hadn’t seriously expected to ever need that when I’d sat down with Alex and made them up together, but there it was staring me in the face. So, the only possibility was that me from the future wanted me from the present to close the window. He’d know what was best, so I saw no reason to argue with it.

I closed the window as quietly as I could, making sure I felt it latch beneath my hands. I could see dark shapes moving outside. Apparently, the monsters had spawned already. It was all happening fast, too fast, but I couldn’t panic. I had to take this one step at a time. Moving out into the hallway for better light, I resumed reading the note to myself.

“Yeah, it’s what you’re thinking. But don’t worry, you’ve got this under control. Well, I’ve got this under control. Mr Thanossprite’s helping, too. We’ve got your back, like you just saw in there. Nothing’ll happen to Mimi on my watch, you’ve got my word. That doesn’t mean your idea about building defenses isn’t a good one, you should totally do that. But first, you need a weapon that actually works.  
I’ve been around the whole house by now clearing it out, so there should be a good amount of grist laying around. Pick it up, like you just did, and use it with the Design-it to cook something up. Make a back-up something too, just in case. Get with Alex on this one, trust me. Dude’s been busy. I know you feel bad about going quiet, but Kayla and Nat and the others are doing fine right now. They can wait.  
Anyway, don’t be afraid to do what you’ve gotta do. Don’t overthink it, and try to go with the flow. Don’t worry, you’ll know when it’s time to come back and pick up the slack. Peace, bro.  
—Dan.”

I folded the note in half, then again, and again, creasing it into an increasingly difficult square. That was a lot to digest. I didn’t know who Mr Thanossprite was, or why I should trust some kind of dapper supervillain fey spirit with taking care of my baby sister, but clearly me from the future was on board with it. I wouldn’t lead myself wrong, not about Mimi. So, I had to trust myself. What was it I’d said, go talk to Alex about making better weapons with the Design-it, whatever that was? Yeah, I could do that. I fished my phone out of my pocket and tapped out a message.

**ElectronicDealer:** Bro, I’m so sorry I haven’t been here  
 **ED:** Been busy with Mimi and getting my head around all this  
 **ED:** You around?  
 **BerettasRevenge:** hey  
 **BR:** yeah im here  
 **ED:** You doing ok?  
 **BR:** yeah im fine  
 **BR:** more than fine  
 **BR:** man ive been talking to this spider guide  
 **BR:** you wouldnt believe this shit its saying  
 **ED:** Spider guide?  
 **BR:** yeah it says its my sprite  
 **BR:** some kind of npc  
 **BR:** we all have one  
 **ED:** They’re all spiders?  
 **ED:** Kayla won’t like that  
 **BR:** nah theyre all different  
 **BR:** depends what got put in our kernel i think

As I walked down the stairs, I turned that over in my brain. If that was what a sprite was, then Mr Thanossprite would be mine. Thanos was obvious, the big bad from the movie Alex had chucked in there. But where’d the “Mr” come from? Unless — I nodded, events shifting in my mind to form the truth. So that explained what had happened to Mr Bobbles. Mimi was either going to be totally on board with that, or throw the tantrum to end all tantrums. I’d have to wait and see.

I turned the corner at the landing, eyes widening at the mess of grist that filled my living room, even continuing on through the archway into the kitchen. There had to be enough game currency here to buy anything I wanted. Way to go, future me. Glancing back down at my phone, I realized Alex had been talking at me while I'd been busy thinking.

**BR:** anyway i made it talk  
 **BR:** turns out i have crystals too so ha  
 **BR:** just i dont know where yet  
 **BR:** but land of crystals and corridors bitch  
 **BR:** fucking awesome  
 **BR:** i guess theyre in the corridors  
 **BR:** whatever  
 **BR:** ill find them  
 **BR:** and those circle things above the house  
 **BR:** those are gates  
 **BR:** first one goes to your server player  
 **BR:** then above that their server player  
 **BR:** and it keeps going  
 **ED:** Woah dude, slow down  
 **ED:** You lost me on the circle gates  
 **BR:** go outside and look up

I finished collecting all the grist from inside and walked over to the front door, opening it an experimental crack. I didn’t see anything nearby waiting to ambush me, so I pushed it open all the way, the light from behind me casting a glow that revealed glittering specks in the dark stone beneath my feet. In the distance, a pair of large, blocky crystals loomed, but that’s not what I was here to see.

Instead, I looked up. Above my house was a set of, for a lack of a better description, circle things. I recognized their appearance from the installation screen of Sburb, the intricate pattern pulsing with a cherry red glow as they slowly spun in place. The first one looked to be a story or two above my roof, and I counted five in all. But the fifth was so far away that it was barely visible, just a dim speck in the sky, so it’s possible there were more even farther up.

**ED:** Trippy  
 **BR:** youre telling me  
 **BR:** anyway like i said you travel through them  
 **BR:** i wont make you leave mimi  
 **BR:** but it might be a while before i can get up to you  
 **BR:** i know we wanted to play together  
 **BR:** but mimis more important  
 **ED:** It’s ok  
 **ED:** I did a lot of thinking about it and its better she’s here  
 **ED:** You know, since Earth blew up and all that  
 **BR:** shes not safe here  
 **ED:** But she’s alive, and I’ll keep her safe  
 **ED:** Well, future me will, because he says he’s taking care of it  
 **ED:** And since he’s me, I know he means it  
 **BR:** what  
 **ED:** Yeah dude, apparently time travel’s a thing in this game, so watch out  
 **ED:** Remember your code word so you know when it’s you  
 **BR:** code word  
 **BR:** the fuck are you talking about

I headed back inside, closing the front door behind me as a first line of defense. Settling into the soft cushions of the sofa, I sighed. Any other day this would just be an ordinary chat, taking the breeze out for some target practice. But today the magnitude of the situation loomed, preventing me from relaxing entirely.

**ED:** You know, the secret code words we made up together  
 **ED:** When you go back in time and you have to convince past you that it’s really you and not a trick  
 **BR:** wait was that when we watched bill and ted  
 **ED:** Yeah, that was it!  
 **ED:** And then we each made up our own code words in case of time travel  
 **ED:** It was this whole thing, dude  
 **BR:** yeah i dont remember what mine was  
 **BR:** sorry  
 **ED:** You should come up with a new one then  
 **BR:** maybe  
 **BR:** other shit seems more important right now though  
 **ED:** Probably, which reminds me  
 **ED:** Can you use your build tools to put some fortifications on the house?  
 **ED:** And also if you see the Design-it anywhere, can I have it?  
 **BR:** the what  
 **ED:** Design-it  
 **BR:** you mean the punch designix  
 **BR:** that’s a game thing i can place  
 **ED:** Yeah that’s probably it  
 **ED:** Sorry bro, in the note I called it a Design-it, not a Designix  
 **ED:** Apparently I can use it to make new weapons or something  
 **BR:** sounds like a better name for it than designix  
 **BR:** less bullshit  
 **BR:** i like it  
 **BR:** im gonna use that from now on  
 **BR:** design-it  
 **BR:** anyway incoming

I felt a light shock through the floor as the Design-it was dropped behind me, between the two front windows. Getting up, I went over to take a closer look. The machine was like a slanted console, with a keyboard and a few other buttons, a display screen, a dispenser slot and some kind of arcade gun attached with a short cable. I picked up the gun and pointed it at the wall, squeezing the trigger to produce a red laser spot.

Through some trial and error, I managed to work out that I was able to use the gun to scan up to two objects, which would appear as codes on the display. I could use the buttons to switch between two modes, additive and subtractive, and pressing the third, larger button would produce a punch card from the slot. I could, in theory, design anything I wanted, as long as I had appropriate component objects to combine together. It seemed like I could even type a code in, if I knew it but didn’t have the item at hand to scan.

Alex was right, future me had been pretty smart to call it the Design-it. Wait. Future me had called it that, and then I used the word when I talked to Alex just now, who then decided to call it that from now on, which would mean that future me used the term because of Alex. So who had come up with the catchy name in the first place?

I shook my head, banishing the thought. If I kept on down that road, I was going to give myself a killer headache. It was better not to question a thing that was working. I had a weapon to Design-it, and I had the perfect idea. Taking inspiration from the card in my pocket, I scanned my existing deck along with my copy of The Dark Knight, then printed a punch card in additive mode. I took it over to the Alchemiter, but when I hit the button it errored back at me.

**ED:** Oh man  
 **BR:** what  
 **ED:** I was gonna combine the cards with a Batman movie to make this sick deck of magic batman cards that turn into batarangs, but it costs way too much grist  
 **ED:** Some of it's kinds I haven’t even seen before, like the glowing red ones  
 **BR:** yeah gotta go kill some shit  
 **BR:** looks like you were doing that already  
 **ED:** Future me was, while I was upstairs putting Mimi to bed  
 **BR:** well you need to go kill more  
 **ED:** Then I need a cheaper weapon, because the one I have now blows  
 **BR:** go get a razor blade  
 **BR:** you can make shuriken cards  
 **BR:** shurikards  
 **BR:** yall got shuriken in korea or is that just japan  
 **ED:** No idea, I think it’s maybe just Japan?  
 **ED:** You know I don’t really know anything about Korea though  
 **ED:** I don’t even remember living there when I was a baby  
 **BR:** fair  
 **ED:** Plus I don’t know how to throw shuriken  
 **BR:** you can just slash shit up  
 **BR:** anyone thinks your full flush sucks you make em bleed  
 **ED:** That isn’t even a thing, and if it was it would probably be a great hand  
 **ED:** I get what you meant, though  
 **ED:** It’s a good idea  
 **BR:** yeah cause my ideas are always good and you know it

I couldn’t help it; I laughed out loud at that, the burst of laughter echoing through the silent house. I immediately stifled the noise with the heel of my hand, listening to make sure I hadn’t woken up Mimi — or attracted any unwanted attention from outside. After a few moments passed and all was quiet, I lowered my hand, looking back down at the chat.

**BR:** anyway youre ok for now  
 **BR:** gonna go smoke again i think  
 **BR:** its a hell of a day  
 **ED:** Wait!  
 **ED:** Did you go yet?  
 **BR:** nah man im here  
 **BR:** whats up  
 **ED:** Please don’t go off by yourself again  
 **ED:** Sorry, it just really hit me hard last time, when nobody could warn you and you almost died  
 **ED:** Can you take your phone with you, at least?  
 **BR:** yeah man  
 **BR:** of course  
 **ED:** Sorry it’s dumb, today has me totally fried  
 **BR:** its not dumb  
 **BR:** if you want ill keep my phone with me all the time  
 **BR:** or ill try to remember  
 **BR:** (sorry for when i fuck up)  
 **ED:** Thanks Alex  
 **BR:** always

I made myself put my phone away. I knew I’d just bugged Alex to take theirs with them, but I respected that they liked to be left alone when they went outside. It wasn’t about always chatting at each other, it was about what might happen if there was another emergency. I never wanted to be afraid like that again, powerless to do anything other than watch as a timer counted down to my best friend’s death. If they were willing to trust me with that access, I wasn’t going to abuse that trust by bothering them for no reason. Now, if only I could bring Kayla around to understand that.

Despite Alex’s sarcastic boast, based in the reality of hundreds of terrible ideas over the years, the bladed deck had been a good idea. I retrieved my razor from upstairs and popped the blade out, scanning it carefully. Combining that with my existing deck of cards, I retrieved the punch card and inserted it into the Alchemiter. This time, the weapon was relatively inexpensive, so I pushed the button to create it.

I picked up the resulting box gingerly, hearing the clatter of something sharp inside as I turned it over. The front had a stylized image of a bushy mustache on it, the fancy kind where the tips curl up. Opening the top, I shook out a single card, careful not to touch it, as one edge had been replaced by a wicked-sharp blade. I picked it up from the other side, feeling the weight of it in my hand. It wasn’t great, and I’d never be able to throw it properly, but it was a decent option if something got in my face. I put the card away in the box, stowing it in my pocket.

I couldn’t help but wonder about the possibilities outside of weaponry. Like, could I make a deck of cards that would only deal blackjacks? Retrieving a deck of cards, the one that wouldn’t take a finger off if I slipped, I searched through it until I found an ace and a jack. Holding them together, I scanned them, making sure the laser hit both cards as I pulled the trigger.

Combined again with the basic deck, this turned out to be absurdly expensive. Not so much that I couldn’t make it, but I had a lot of things I still had to spend my grist on, you know? I wrinkled my nose, debating whether to experiment or not, but in the end curiosity got the better of me. There was always more grist where this came from, after all. Examining the resulting deck, I was disappointed to find it to be perfectly ordinary, save for a fancy 21 logo on the backs of the cards. It contained all the expected suits and ranks, in the correct quantities. Lame.

I moved back to the sofa, absentmindedly dealing and re-dealing. What a waste of grist for a simple cosmetic upgrade. The other deck had come with built-in razor blades, and it had been five times cheaper! My odds didn’t seem to be improved any, either. Same old chance of bust, over and over and — hey cool, blackjack! I smiled, picking up the ace and ten rather than shuffling them immediately back into the deck as I had before.

So the Design-it process sometimes turned out duds. That wasn’t its fault, as clearly the operator was the one picking dumb things to put together. It was still a cool trick. You just had to be careful was all, so you didn’t waste all your grist on useless toys. Useless toys that were suddenly kind of warm, I realized, slipping my fingers back and forth on the cards. Not just kind of warm, but nearly hot enough to burn, and getting hotter with every moment that passed.

As a wisp of smoke appeared, I flung the pair of cards away from myself, towards the far side of the room. I shoved myself off the sofa, running to grab the fire extinguisher from the kitchen. But before I could do more than turn away, an explosion shook the room, the sharp crack echoing through the house. I stumbled in a sudden burst of heat, catching myself on the back of the sofa, and heard a cry of alarm from upstairs. Mimi!

“It’s okay Mimi,” I heard my own voice call out, from upstairs. “I’ve got you.”

I wanted to check on her, but I couldn’t let her see two of me. That was usually a rule of time travel, right? I had to remember to call out, loud enough to hear it from down here, whenever I got around to being the me that was up there. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I looked back at the source of the explosion. The carpet and ceiling were lightly singed, as if a fireball had manifested briefly in the middle of my living room. Laying innocently on the carpet, as if they’d just fallen, were the two cards.

Now I got why that deck had been so expensive. That was crazy enough if it was just the blackjacks, but what if every hand dealt had the potential to explode like that? I’d shuffled them back in so quickly that only the last one had been given a chance. It was dangerous, sure, but also kind of cool. I was like a wizard. A blackjack wizard!

I shuffled the two cards back into the deck, putting it away for now. I’d experiment more later, outside where it was safer. For now, I was going to report success. Alex could check on their own time, no big deal, but they’d get a kick out of this. As I pulled out my phone, I was surprised to see there were already messages waiting for me. I must not have noticed, as busy as I was with the Design-it and Alchemiter.

**BR:** fucking shit  
 **BR:** losing my mind here  
 **BR:** aaafhfhfjjjjjkljgd  
 **ED:** Bro  
 **ED:** Deep breath, what’s wrong?  
 **BR:** cant find my cigs  
 **BR:** looked everywhere  
 **ED:** Okay well, where’s the last place you had them?  
 **BR:** in my hand  
 **ED:** And where were you?  
 **BR:** hell breaking loose  
 **BR:** the meteors and shit  
 **ED:** Did you have them inside?  
 **BR:** fuck  
 **BR:** no  
 **BR:** fucking fuck fuck  
 **ED:** What?  
 **BR:** i must have dropped them  
 **BR:** outside  
 **BR:** which is fucking gone  
 **ED:** Dude that sucks  
 **ED:** But you can probably get more  
 **BR:** fucking how  
 **BR:** you see a store anywhere  
 **BR:** because i dont  
 **ED:** Chill, deep breath  
 **ED:** I meant with the Design-it  
 **BR:** oh  
 **BR:** maybe yeah  
 **BR:** thats a good idea  
 **ED:** I’ll help, got any empty packs?  
 **BR:** nah  
 **BR:** i drop them straight in the dumpster  
 **ED:** Okay well not that I don’t believe you, but maybe check the trash just in case  
 **ED:** I’ll look around here and see what I can find

If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. I felt I had a pretty good handle on the equipment, though. Nobody here smoked cigarettes, but between replication, addition and subtraction, I should be able to create pretty much anything I wanted. So they lost their last pack, no big deal. We’d just make another one. How hard could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where we really start digging into some of the core game mechanics: gate travel, alchemy, etc. Both processes have been streamlined somewhat from the original comic, notably in the case of gate travel to remove the first gate which takes you to your own planet. I decided it was unnecessary, a relic of the times before you could just walk out your front door and go exploring. This is going to be long enough without me having to write extra gates in for the sake of tradition.
> 
> To the best of my research, Korea did not historically have shuriken or throwing stars of any kind. I guarantee you Daniel has looked into this matter even less than I have, and Alex is still over here stuck on the cleverness of "shurikards" with absolutely no concern for cultural accuracy.
> 
> The batarang/playing card duality is what is known as a refrance. What the refrance? [This the refrance](https://www.homestuck.com/story/1161), which in itself is refrance back to Problem Sleuth. Refrance is itself refrance, but at this point that's not even looking like a fake word anymore, so let's move on.
> 
> I want to state, for the record, that I conceived of Daniel's fighting style with Cardkind as a reference to the above. It was not a Final Fantasy reference. In fact, at the time I first put the concept on paper, FF14: Heavensward had not even come out yet nor would I play the game for several more months. The similarity is notable, but not an intentional homage. Just shut up and enjoy the wizard cards.


	17. Tomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 7/31/20 update

I pressed my phone against my chest, closing my eyes. I could still see the words on the transcript Yana had sent over, burning against the inside of my eyelids. The finality of it all weighed down on me like a lead blanket, trapping any what-ifs that tried to rise. You just didn’t say those things if you expected to come back.

I’d known. I had, really. But the thing about A was, they had an uncanny knack for being in exactly the right place at just the right time, sidestepping danger like a fly dodges the swatter. Despite all appearances, part of me had refused to believe that they hadn’t made it somehow. I don’t know what I’d expected, them to waltz up out of the basement with that death-defying grin on their face? But I’d hoped, and now that hope had been shattered.

I opened my eyes, tears stinging the corners. My room was a disaster, a perfect mirror of how I felt inside. During the explosions, while those lights were flashing outside, a lot of things had fallen over and paint had splattered everywhere. Yesterday I might have given a shit, but today I barely noticed the damage. It meant nothing. A was gone. Nothing meant anything anymore.

I missed them so much.

We’d been close, the kind of close you didn’t have to even think about. Tomas and A, together against the world, no matter how it might try to drag us down. But now it was just me, all alone. Where the hell was I supposed to go from here? “Beat the fuck out of that game?” I wasn’t in a place where I could beat anything right now, let alone the fuck out of it. I just wanted to find a thick blanket, crawl in the closet, and never come out.

It was like when Mom and Dad died. I’d felt this same way, back when the counselor from the county sat down with me in the living room and told me they wouldn’t be coming back. I’d run away, all the way up here, and buried myself in the dark. But that was then. Now, there was nobody left to crawl in after me, to hold me and tell me it wasn’t okay, but that we’d make it through. Together.

Fuck.

I dug the heel of my hand against my eyes, wiping the tears away, but more leaked out, rendering the attempt useless. I picked up my phone again, our words dancing and blurring from the wetness running down my cheeks.

 **CriticalGuru:** That’s everything they said to me.  
**CG:** I’m sorry.  
**CulinaryArtisan:** Don’t  
**CA:** Not your fault  
**CG:** I know, but I wish I could have done something.  
**CG:** I wanted to help.  
**CG:** Are you okay?  
**CG:** Stupid question, ignore.  
**CG:** Better: can I do anything?  
**CA:** No  
**CA:** But thanks  
**CG:** Okay.  
**CG:** I’m here if you want to talk.  
**CA:** I’m gonna go I think  
**CA:** Maybe later  
**CG:** Okay, talk to you then.  
**CG:** Be safe, ok?

I tucked the phone away into my pocket. Words were too hard right now. The feelings coursing through me couldn’t be expressed through anything as limited as language. I needed something else, something older. Communication without words, just the knowledge that someone was here for you. That you were loved. But that was the one thing I couldn’t have, not anymore.

I heaved myself to my feet, pushing my bedroom door open. It swung out into the hallway with a faint creak, and I stepped out. The house was eerily quiet, save for my shuffling footsteps and rough breathing. A’s room was next to mine, our doors mere feet apart. I reached for the knob, feeling the chill of the metal beneath my hand as I turned it.

It smelled like them in here, a faint scent of old smoke mixed with whatever the cologne of the week was. The debris of a life lay scattered around the room, carelessly tossed wherever the mood had struck them at the time. Empty beer bottles, old festival wristbands and crumpled plastic baggies accented the piles of clothes and stacks of boxes.

As the older of the two of us, A had been granted the corner room as a child. While the curtains over the pair of windows on the one wall were closed, those of the single window on the other had been thrown back, an old armchair set before it. I walked over, letting the bedroom door drift closed behind me. Grasping the back of the chair with both hands, I leaned forward, looking out the window.

A dense fog lay outside, like something out of Stephen King, surrounding my house as far as I could see. We’d used to watch those kinds of movies together, back when I was younger. It had felt good to be scared, because their arms around me meant I’d always be safe. I didn’t feel safe now. I felt that heavy fog, pressing against the outside of the house. I felt lonely, and uncertain, and scared.

I stepped around the chair, between it and the window, and let myself fall back into it. I frowned as I landed on something. Reaching down beside me, I pulled out a half-empty bottle of bourbon. That wasn’t surprising at all. Stuff tended to live wherever A had last used it, set it down, and immediately forgotten about it. Titos under the blanket on the couch? Been there. Agavero in the shower rack? Sure, why not. This wasn’t the first bottle I’d sat on or tripped over by accident.

I pulled my legs up onto the chair, curling them beneath me as I wrapped my fingers around the neck of the liquor bottle. The smell of stale cigarettes was stronger over here. I cast my eyes around the area, quickly spotting the circular tray tucked away beneath the curtain. I should’ve known A had been cheating on the “no smoking in the house” rule. Out the window where I wasn’t looking was so like them.

I turned the bottle over in my hands, running my thumbs down the embossed label as the liquid sloshed back and forth inside. A had tried to teach me how to tend bar once, last winter. I’d thought that after I graduated I might follow them into the industry. But I was terrible at it. I liked beer and wine well enough, but I had no head for drinking liquor, let alone mixing it, and the results of my guesstimates had been awful enough to make A grimace when it was time to taste.

That didn’t mean the plan was no good. It would still be alright, they’d said. We’d still have that restaurant, exactly how I wanted it. They’d handle the bar while I focused on the cooking, and together the two of us would be unstoppable. It was a great plan, the very best. Well, none of that was ever going to happen now. Not with only me left.

I twisted the cap off the bourbon, gulping down a mouthful before I could think about it. Ugh, that was fucking nasty. And yet, at the same time, so familiar. The aftertaste that chased the burn was the same one I remembered smelling on A’s breath as we’d laughed about something dumb on the TV, or caught up over late night snacks after a long, hard day. It was sweet, smoky and above all else, comforting.

I took another swallow, grimacing my way through the initial bite to get to the good part, those memories I chased. But they were fleeting, impossible to catch before the taste faded away. Soon, the fog wasn’t just outside but inside my head as well, suffocating me on all sides. I stumbled through it, reaching out for fuzzy memories that slipped away from my grasp time after time, sip after sip. I just wanted everything to hold still. Just for a moment, so I could catch up.

* * *

I opened my eyes, twin spears of golden light stabbing them until I squeezed them shut again. Ugh. I was stupid. Stupid and lonely and sad and dream-drunk. Everything was hazy, a horrible blur of disorienting brightness. How had I forgotten how awful this was? This was just like that other time, back when I'd been fifteen and drank all the wine, then puked all the wine, then A put me to bed — oh, god.

More tears. I took in a haggard breath, pulling the covers up over my face as the sobs started. This was the worst. I wasn’t even numb anymore. I could feel the pain deep down in my heart, throbbing in time with the bells that tolled out in the city. Some celebration here on Prospit, I guessed. All I knew was I had nothing to celebrate. To me, they were funeral bells.

For the first time in my life, there was nobody left to hold me and tell me we would make it through. I was truly alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how sometimes you just want to reach through the page and give a character a hug? YEAH. This guy right here.
> 
> I had a big debate with myself over whether intoxication transferred over from your waking self to your dream self. On one hand, there have been examples in Homestuck where intoxication did seem to transfer, at least to a point(Dream Roxy's sleepwalking, which was implied to be a result of her drunken stupors, and the fact that sober Dream Gamzee didn't exist to tip anyone off). On the other hand, they really are separate entities, at least to a point. And on the other other hand, Hussie has been so inconsistent on the matter of dream selves(do they persist when your waking self is awake or not?!) that I can't really trust anything in canon. So I decided to go with a headcanon of there being some degree of intoxication, but not feeling the full effect because the dream self isn't actually the self who's drunk. It just bleeds over a little bit, like a knife to the liver.
> 
> I apologize for this being so godawfully depressing. Next one isn't so bad. Hopefully you're reading archival so it's waiting already...


	18. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8/7/20 update

I’d been trying to get in touch with Tomas ever since I’d gotten here, but he wasn’t picking up. I must have called a hundred times, leaving voicemail after voicemail, all with the same result. Even my text messages of final resort all still showed unread. I curled my hand over, protecting my precious nails against my palm so I wouldn’t ruin them by biting. Bridget wasn’t answering either, but I knew she had horse chores to do, so at least that made sense. Still, I was going to go crazy up here if I didn’t get a reply from someone soon!

Cleaning up the glass shards from the living room had taken ages. Almost the entire window had been shattered, leaving a gaping hole for the wind to pour through. And pour through it did, howling an alien tune as it whipped through the remains of my apartment. I’d taken everything I cared about into my father’s bedroom, securing the door to protect it from the wind’s prying fingers. I could only imagine what he’d say if he were here right now. He probably would’ve glowered into the wind for a while, then snapped at me as if the entire situation was my fault. Yeah, I didn’t need that negativity right now.

After the apartment was secured, I’d had to fix myself up. None of the cuts were deep, but they’d all needed cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged. I looked like I was half a mummy, with my long arms and legs patchwork-covered in tape and gauze. Once I’d finished with all of that, I was pooped. I turned the light out in the bathroom, bracing myself against the heavy, insistent breeze as I crossed to my room, pulling the door tight behind me.

And here I’d stayed for the past while, sprawled across my bed with a good book, just waiting for somebody to message me back. Like my best friend. Or maybe that girl who’d ditched me in the middle of getting set up. Or, you know, maybe my freaking boyfriend? Duke Greyhawke would never ignore the fair maiden Elise, I thought, flipping the page. Not that they’d been apart for longer than a few moments since their first steamy meeting. Maybe that was the key.

Just as I was starting to really get into the story — “a most urgent messenger, to see my lord duke!” — a crash sounded from outside. Not outside outside, inside outside. As in, it came from the living room, and was therefore my problem. I sighed, facing the paperback down on my bed to hold my place as I swung myself out, careful not to step too hard on my tender, wounded feet. It was probably the cat, finally out from wherever he’d been hiding. I had to catch him and calm him down before he tore straight out the window that wasn’t there anymore.

“C’mere Romeo,” I called, holding my door cracked as I peeked out. The wind seemed to have died down, though I knew from my brief experience here that the respite wouldn’t last long. I didn’t see him, but I did see what had made the noise. A vase of flowers, heavy enough that the wind hadn’t bothered it, now lay shattered on the floor next to the coffee table. Ugh, that cat!

I opened my door the whole way, stepping out into the main room. Now I could see him, sitting on the windowsill looking out, his fluffy tail curled along the ledge next to him. Dratted cat was going to fall off when that wind started up again! I limped across the room to him, stopping just short to admire the view. I had to admit, for all its blustery faults, it was very beautiful here.

My high-rise apartment was no longer located amid a metropolis of steel and asphalt. Instead, it was surrounded by lush, rolling hills in pastel shades of blush, peach and baby blue. A pale road began beneath me, leading away through the countryside towards the gold-trimmed alabaster towers in the distance. They rose even taller than where I stood now, their crowns intricately carved into strange shapes and patterns. I wondered if that was what made the eerie whistling whenever the wind blew.

“The Land of Wind and Towers.”

I nodded absently, then stared down at my cat in horror. He had not just talked. Cats did not do that! I was hearing things. Romeo looked up at me, blinked his eyes lazily, then floated up into the air. I sat down hard on the ledge, both hands clapped over my mouth. This was that thing, that sprite prototype the note had mentioned. Oh no!

“Do not be afraid,” Romeo said, floating over to rub against my ankles. Now I saw it, the ghostly glow that surrounded him, and felt the tingle of static as he pressed against my legs. Still, habits were hard to break, and I reached down to scratch the top of his head before I even thought about it. But nothing bad happened. Relieved, I gave him another gentle scratch. Under my hand, he purred like a violin.

Startled, I snatched my hand back. I looked over to the bookshelf, but my father’s violin case was still placed exactly in the spot where it belonged. No wild wind had been able to dislodge that paragon of order. However, his sheet music was in disarray. So that was what had happened. I swallowed hard, watching my cat — no, my sprite, Romeosprite — as he leapt back up onto the ledge and began to wash himself.

“This is totally weird,” I said. He paused, looking up at me with unblinking eyes. “Are you even my cat anymore?”

“Of course not,” he responded, his tail swishing as if I’d caused offense. “And I never was. You were my human.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at that. He took the motion as an invitation to come closer, butting his head beneath my hand. I moved my fingers as he purred again, the sounds of a violin solo filling the shattered penthouse. The sound wasn’t very comforting, reminding me less of my beloved pet and more of disapproving stares and endless lists of tasks.

“Would you like to hear a story?”

“Sure,” I said. I’d listen to anything as long as it meant he’d stop playing the violin at me.

“Once upon a time,” he began, settling into my lap, “there was a beautiful and prosperous place, the Land of Wind and Towers. None knew who had built the towers, as they had stood since time immemorial. Likewise, the wind had always blown fierce, playing its song through the towers’ teeth high above. In this land, there lived a people, united under one purpose: to prepare and preserve the land for the prophesied hero’s coming. For it is said, whispered upon the breath of mother to daughter, father to son, that one day a maiden fair will come to this land.”

A maiden fair? A smile crept across my lips. This was my kind of story. I kept petting Romeosprite, though I used my other hand to smooth my hair, doing my best to look as fair and maidenly as possible as I listened.

“Imprisoned high atop the great tower, she will weep, lament, and long for her freedom. But she will find herself powerless in the face of Hermes’s breath. Only upon the Bard’s arrival shall the maiden find her freedom, shattering her prison and flying free upon the winds of the great Hermes. And so goes the tale of Wind and Towers. Butt, please.”

I moved my hand to scratch Romeosprite’s bottom, that spot he liked just above the base of his tail. A bard, huh? Shame it wasn’t a prince. I could imagine it, though. Tomas had a guitar, right? If he ever answered his phone, I could tell him all about it. Even if he wasn’t a prince, I thought with a sigh, a bard was still romantic enough. And freeing me from atop a tower — my heart skipped a beat just thinking about it! This would be more wonderful than I could have ever imagined.

* * *

I'd decided to take a walk before bed. My feet still hurt, but not too badly in the practical shoes I’d dug out of the back of my closet. Romeosprite assured me it wasn’t far to something he’d called the consort’s village, and to simply follow the road. Now that my feet were upon it, I could see the road was made of uniform, cream-colored bricks, a color that seemed to match the distant towers.

Down upon the ground, the wind’s song was closer to background music than the harsh screams I’d heard from the midst of it. It was still breezy for sure, the wind catching my hair and whipping my clothes around me as I walked, but it was far more tolerable. I didn’t look forward to having to climb up into a tower, that was for sure.

I would have to coordinate carefully with Tomas. Of course the story said the fair maiden had to suffer and cry and whatever, but it hadn’t said for how long. Five or ten minutes would do nicely, I figured, with my precious bard waiting just below to carry me away with his song. I’d left another voice mail for him, and hoped he’d get back to me soon. For the first time in my life, I was actually excited about a video game, and I wasn’t about to slow down for anything!

My footsteps settled into a steady rhythm as I walked, one and then the other, over and over. But something about the sound wasn’t right. I paused, but the footsteps kept going. No, not footsteps. It was hoof beats, from around the next bend, and coming closer! I froze in place, knowing I could never outrun a horse. I was alone, helpless, without even Romeosprite to aid me. I held my breath, hands wrapped tight around myself as the beast rounded the corner.

It was like a centaur but smaller, about the size of a large dog. Rather than having a muscular, male form, the upper half of the centaur wore a dark turtleneck over a pleated skirt that covered the transition from human to horse. A long, silvery horn sat above a pair of eyes that glittered like twin onyx gems in its pitch-black face, with two pointed kitty ears completing the freaky picture. Both razor-clawed hands wrapped around a large gun, the kind you’d expect to see carried by a modern soldier. I shuddered as the evil eyes swept across me, squeezing my own shut as it thundered towards me.

And then it was past. Taking a deep breath, I watched with a rush of relief as it continued back along the road towards my apartment, a bushy horse tail swishing behind it. That gun freaked me out, but at least it didn’t seem to be looking for a fight. Next time I might not be so lucky, I realized. I had to hurry. The village should be just ahead, and hopefully I’d be safe there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The jury is out on which monster amalgamation is more freakishly terrifying. The spider is pretty gruesome, but something about the anime girl juxtaposition seen here just puts me on edge.
> 
> One of the things that drew me to writing in this fandom was the level of random worldbuilding required. I love designing lands and their quest concepts. Even the ones that seem boring at first(like Natalya's LODAS or Alex's LOCAC parking lot) have things going on if you know where to look.
> 
> Location music dump, since I forgot to do so in recent chapters:
> 
> LOCAC and LODAS: [Soul Cairn - The Elder Scrolls V: Dawnguard OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b1YlwwFXw8E)  
> LOWAT: [November - Brandon Fiechter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fd-lF0pM25w)  
> Daniel's land(I don't think it has a name yet): [Waterfall - Undertale OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v712NiVK5uY)  
> LOKAS: [The Essence - Peter Gundry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vb2svUMc8CI)


	19. Greg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8/14/20 update

Shadows from the leaves overhead played over the back of my hand as I closed my fingers around the medallion, feeling the symbol embossed upon it: a diagonal slash, with three crimson drops hanging from it. The symbol of Blood. My symbol, if these village consorts were to be believed. I watched the little bipedal creatures scamper back and forth, nakking incoherently from their long crocodile snouts as they scrambled to shore up their damaged huts.

They didn’t seem to be very smart, but I guess that was why I was here. To save them. My breath caught in my throat at that thought, guilty memories of what I’d just walked away from flooding into my mind. Even though it wasn’t my fault, even though I’d done everything I could — hadn’t I? — I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d owed her more.

I’d sat there alone in my room for hours, just watching and waiting for her to wake up. Or to move. Anything, just to show she was still alive. But she’d only laid there, crumpled on the rooftop where she’d fallen. All I’d been able to do was to bring up a blanket, that fluffy pink one from her bedroom. One corner covered her face; I tried to fix it, but the game cursor didn’t give me a lot of fine control. After tugging the blanket entirely off her twice, I gave up, letting it fall where it would.

That anime girl ghost was no use, either. When Miyong had fallen asleep before, back before we were all in the game, she’d gone over and woke the girl up. But now, she seemed more interested in patrolling the edges of the roof, using that spear of hers to cut down any freaky unicorn-centaur monsters that dared approach. I wanted to scream through the screen, telling the sprite to get her god damn priorities straight! It would have been no use, though. It’s not like she could hear me.

I sighed, zooming the camera back to Miyong, laying beneath the blanket. Just like the last time I’d checked, and the time before that, I couldn’t tell if she was even breathing. This was all so useless. I was useless. How was I supposed to be a hero if I couldn’t even save one girl—

“Ah-tehn…hut!”

The sudden shout startled me to my feet. My laptop tumbled to the floor as I spun, staring wide-eyed behind me to where the noise had come from. My own sprite stood there in full battle uniform, gun holstered on his back. And he looked mad.

“What’s the meaning of this, trainee?”  
My mouth worked, unable to muster a response to that.  
“Agents on the prowl, a war to fight, and you’re in here having pity hour. You’re letting your whole flight down!” His lip curled in disgust as he spat off to the side. “You make me sick just looking at you.”  
“She might be dead,” I finally managed to say, still trying to get my head around the sudden appearance of a ghostly MTI in my bedroom.  
“She might be dead,” he mocked back. “You’d know if she was dead, trainee! And that’s Sir to you, Sir Sprite.”  
“Yes sir,” I stammered. “Sir Sprite. Sir!”  
“That’s more like it! Now, I’m not going to repeat myself, so you listen and you listen well. Your orders are as follows: first, where is your weapon, trainee? Go get it. Move!”

I moved, his shout chasing me across the room as I leaped off the edge of the bed. Only after I was in motion did I realize that I had no idea where I’d left my weapon. I lapped the room, keeping well back from where Sir Sprite scowled at me, floating next to my bed. I’d had it a while ago, then I’d put it down. But where? If this thing would just give me a moment to think, I knew I could remember—

Something collided off the back of my head, bouncing away with a heavy thonk. I gasped and staggered forward, clutching the back of my head with both hands. Pain pulsed through my skull, unimpeded by my useless hands. Glancing behind me, I saw the baseball bat rolling away across the floor. The son of a bitch had thrown it at me! Before he had the chance to do anything else with it, I grabbed it, both hands securing it from further interference.

“Took you long enough. If I’d been the enemy, you’d be picking your nose in hell right now! Don’t. Lose. Your. Weapon! You eat with it, you bathe with it, you sleep with it, you marry it and have its sweet little wooden babies! Do I make myself clear, trainee?”

I nodded, too afraid — not to mention in pain — to say anything else.

“And second! You’re not here to screw around, pining after some girl. Boo hoo, she’ll sink or swim, same as you. And let me tell you, you’re pretty damn far underwater right about now. This is the Land of Ferns and Redwoods,” he gestured out the window, pointing emphatically with each word. “Now make no mistake, your tour of duty will take you all over the medium and back again, sooner rather than later, but right now this land is your sole priority. We’ve got innocents out there, trainee. Civilians. Those who’ve got no stake and no part in what’s to come, save their very lives. Even as we speak, imps besiege their village.”

“Sir,” I protested against my better judgment, “what about us? Do you think any of us asked to get meteors thrown at us? I get that these guys might be hurting, but what are we doing to save our world?”

For a moment, I thought I might actually get away with the question. Sir Sprite stared at me, then his expression darkened as he roared up into my face, mere inches away.

“Your world’s gone, trainee! Battered, barren, and dead! What, you think you didn’t sign up for anything as you fled the ruins? You enlisted, each and every one of you, the moment you crossed into this medium.”

I backed up, pressing myself up against the wall. I was cornered, with nowhere to go. I should have known talking back was a bad idea. After a few long moments, he backed off, putting a few feet of distance between us as he shook his head in disgust.

“Safety ain’t free, trainee. You fight, you do your part, or you pay the price. Hell, maybe you pay the price anyway, and if it comes to that you rest secure in the knowledge that you've completed your duty to the best of your abilities. Your orders come straight from the great Eusebia herself and are not to be questioned by anybody, certainly not the likes of you! The mission is to see these consorts safe, trainee. The bells of war are ringing, can’t you hear them? You should have been out there yesterday!”

I couldn’t hear any bells, war or otherwise, but I wasn’t about to argue again. I just nodded. I had my orders, my destination — delivered with an appropriate level of disgust for my navigation skills — and before I knew it, I’d been deployed right out my front door. It slammed shut behind me, with the same force that had propelled my baseball bat into the back of my skull. The painful lump on my head told me everything I needed to know about the wisdom of attempting to go back inside, so instead I turned away from home, towards the wilderness.

I found the path easily enough, curving around wide tree trunks — redwoods? — and lined with ferns that rustled as I passed. If I’d thought it might be cooler beneath the trees’ shade, I’d been wrong; the oppressive humidity had pervaded everywhere, causing an uncomfortable dampness beneath my shirt. Still, if I was going to be disgustingly hot, it was better to be suffering out here than back home where I’d also be getting yelled at. This was supposed to be a game, not basic training.

I heard the trouble before I saw it. Breaking into a fast jog, the most I could manage with the muggy air pressing down on me, I rushed down the path, toward the sounds of splintering wood and gunfire. Rounding the final bend, I saw a squad of those screwed-up centaurs — imps, right? — ripping their way through a village of primitive huts. They reared, lashing out with their front hooves, and they charged, lowering the long spike on their foreheads to impale anything in their path. Occasionally, they let loose a burst of automatic fire from the M16s they carried, causing a spray of bullets to rip through what remained of the stick-and-brush dwellings.

Amid the chaos of snapped redwood and torn fronds, a couple dozen creatures scampered. They were a little smaller than the imps, resembling nothing more than miniature red crocodiles that ran on their stubby back legs. From the scene, a panicked, repetitive nak-nak-nak sound rose above everything else: a cry for help. These must be the consorts I was supposed to save.

The imps seemed to be paying me no mind, focused as they were on ripping the village apart. I hefted my bat, then charged towards the nearest one, bringing the weapon down in a solid whack across the back of its head. I knew from personal experience how much that would hurt, but unfortunately it wasn’t enough for a KO. It was, however, enough to draw its attention to me. All the imps instantly stopped destroying the village, turning to converge on me.

I’m lucky they were all such lousy shots, otherwise I never would have survived. It took three or four solid hits to take one down, their own friendly fire helping to shave a little off. By the time they’d all been reduced to a collection of colored orbs scattered across the ground, my arms ached from the impact of wood against unyielding bodies. Exhausted, I didn’t even notice when the consorts surrounded me, raising my head only when they began to cheer in their strange, chirping voices.

I’d been brought before the chief of the village. He looked like the rest of them, except slightly larger with darker scales and wearing garlands of woven fronds and flowers. I hadn’t been sure what to do, so I’d gone down on one knee knight-style to look him in the eyes. He’d seemed pleased, called me hero, and presented me with this medallion.

And here I was now, the hero of Blood and savior of the Naks, which is the name I’d decided to give them; whatever they called themselves, I sure as hell couldn’t pronounce it. I slipped the loop of twisted fibers around my neck, the disk settling atop my breastbone. It looked a bit gruesome, but also kind of cool. I wasn’t just the hero of any old thing, I was the hero of Blood. Your move, raiders.

But every moment I spent out here was a moment I wasn’t taking care of other promises. I knew there wasn’t anything I could do for Miyong, but it was driving me crazy anyway. And it wasn’t just her. What about Yana, or Tomas, or Tomas’s girlfriend? I realized I had no idea how any of them were doing, consumed as I was at first by my own problems with Miyong and then by my new orders. Surely Yana had made it in. Someone would have told me if she hadn’t. Right?

“Pardon me,” an insistent voice said from behind me. Unlike the Naks who had surrounded me, chattering ever since my arrival in the village, this voice was polite and easy to understand. I turned, blinking as I came face to face with a strange creature.

It was nearly as tall as I was, its pitch-black skin shiny like an insect’s carapace rather than the leathery skin of the imps. It wore a uniform of deep purple, regalia that hinted either of high rank or direct service to someone of such. Behind and off to the side, I saw another similar creature standing, except this one was pure white and dressed in golden hues. It was glaring at the one closer to me. I shifted, unsettled as the beady eyes of the dark one regarded me. What were these things? And what did they want with me?

“I come as emissary of the royalty of Derse,” the one in front of me said, reaching within a pocket of its tunic to retrieve a scroll sealed with purple wax. “I bear a summons, to be given directly to the Maid of Blood.”

“Well you haven’t found her yet,” I said, biting back a laugh. I guess the NPCs in this game were coded to be kind of dumb, so the players would feel smart even if they weren’t. As much as I hated the idea of taking on yet another quest, I didn’t get the sense that I had a decline button for this one. “I can come back and tell you if I see her around. Would that be okay?”

“I really must insist you take the message,” it said, holding out the scroll. The tips of its clawed fingers tapped against the parchment, as if it was impatient to hand it off.

“But don’t you have to hand it directly to the Maid?” I argued back. “I mean, I’ll take it if you want, but won’t you get in trouble for half-assing your job?”

“I assure you, my job is entirely whole-assed. Please!” It continued poking the scroll in my direction, seeming increasingly agitated, so I finally reached out and took it. Immediately, it relaxed, stepping back and giving me a funny half-bow. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. I guess I’ll just hold onto this until I find this Maid of yours. What’s a hero for, except to outsource quests, right?”

“No, you must read it!” The agitation was back as it wrung its hands, visibly shaking before me. “It will be my head if you don’t. Our monarch, you see, she won’t tolerate failure!”

“But you literally just said this was only for the Maid to read.” I couldn’t help it: I laughed then, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Do you even know what you want, here?”

“Oh for Skaia’s sake,” the white one interrupted, its voice lower and bursting with scorn. “I expected this song and dance from a Dersite, but for a hero of legend you’re remarkably imbecilic.”

The Dersite squeaked in alarm and shook its head, eyes widening as the other one stepped forward. I lowered my hand, staring at the new speaker in shock. What had it just called me?

“You are the Maid,” it said, stressing the first word as it thrust a rolled parchment — identical to the first save for the seal, which was of golden wax — towards me. “Here is your Prospitian summons. Do with it what you will. I wash my hands of this farce, Speaker preserve me.”

I took the scroll, stunned into autopilot. As my hand closed around it, the Prospitian’s own hand snapped back and it turned on its heel. Slapping its hand against a button camouflaged on a nearby tree trunk, it stepped into the cavity that opened. After giving me one final glare of poisonous derision as the compartment slid shut, it was gone. The other one, the Dersite, had slunk off somewhere too, while I wasn’t looking.

I was left alone with a scroll in each hand, and no shortage of questions. The idea that I was the Maid of Blood was laughable. Last time I’d checked, I didn’t have the appropriate parts to be a Maid of anything. Clearly, some kind of mistake had been made. It was time to get to the bottom of this, before things out of hand.

Despite the heat, I made it back to my house in double time. With each step I took my lingering confusion drained away, replaced by irritation. After banging my way through a few rooms, I eventually found Sir Sprite in the kitchen, of all places. Before he could speak, I got right up in his face, pointing to drive my point home.

“Who’s in charge around here?”  
“That would be me, trainee. And that’s Sir to you, since that seems to have fallen out of your leaky ears.”  
“No, I don’t want to talk to you. Screw the chain of command. Who’s your boss and where do I find them? I want answers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Nak" is the canonical sound that crocodile consorts make in Homestuck. I did not come up with this particular stupidity; I merely perpetuated it.
> 
> MTI = Military Training Instructor, which google has instructed me is the Air Force term for one of those people who shouts at new soldiers until they stop sucking so much.
> 
> Friendly reminder that "it" is the incorrect pronoun to use for a seemingly self-aware being of uncertain gender. Greg has probably said a lot of things in this chapter(and previous chapters) that need friendly reminders, but that was the most egregious thing in _this_ chapter. Hopefully he gets one at some point, or at least a solid clue by four. It's really difficult to have characters address issues that only happen in another character's internal narration, though.
> 
> And speaking of gender, I'm going to remind anyone who forgot(or skipped the introduction) that I am not using gendered classes in this fic. That doesn't lessen the impact of characters having the gender-associated words assigned to them, as seen here. It bothers some more than others. And that Prospitian is a shameless author insert, in mood if not appearance.
> 
> Music for the Land of Ferns and Redwoods(LOFAR): [Treegate - Myst OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yfPMlIF0tk)  
> Because I am highly original. Trees, amirite? There's even compartments in trees. I stole that from that game so hard. Send me to unoriginal writer jail!


	20. Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Update 8/21/20

I wiped the lenses of my glasses with a cloth, the scene on my laptop screen coming back into clarity as I settled them back in their proper place upon my face. It hadn’t helped, at least not as much as I’d hoped it would. The fog wasn’t in my vision, but rather in my mind. There were too many questions, too many loose ends that defied explanation, and not enough answers. Clearly this scenario went beyond a mere video game, but to what end? To what extent was this a game, with rules and behaviors all its own, and how far might we expect the laws of reality to assert themselves? Why place a player in mortal peril immediately upon entry, and — perhaps most importantly of all — why extend this challenge to only one of six?

I could make educated guesses as to some of the answers, or at least portions of them. Firstly, this was no traditional game, that much was clear. From what information I’d been able to glean from that dreadful sprite of mine, we were in a fight not to restore what was lost, or even to win a game in the traditional sense, but to survive in order to forge our world anew. I suppose that was a game of sorts, though not one most would recognize. I, however, was intimately familiar with this variety of adversarial play. I’d been participating in this cat and mouse farce my entire life.

Secondly, the laws of physics in this place — the Medium — had clearly been written with considerable caveats. The substance known as “Grist” appeared to be used as a means to satisfy the law of conservation of energy, or matter. Perhaps both. I suspected the distinction was irrelevant, as it was clearly no more than an empty construct meant to comfort us with the familiar and provide a sense of accomplishment. The case in point could be seen at this very moment, on my server display.

I was zoomed as far out as the client permitted, watching the descent of a building complex into an endless ocean. As it descended, a weak — yet steady — halo encompassed it from beneath, stopping just at the water’s edge. Only the very top, still bereft of the eerie skin of light, had yet to be claimed by the waves which lapped at its plate-glass walls. Another construct, meant to reassure us that of course there was a reason the aquarium was sinking and flooding too slowly, and that we should ponder it no more. I knew full well this Medium required no such visual mechanics to alter the laws of reality. Nor did I need comforting, like a little child. It was insulting.

Ah, but perhaps, for a counter-thought, I was never the one meant to be comforted. Checking the available Grist total — it seemed I had cannibalized enough of these inexplicably barren exhibits to achieve my goal — I zoomed back in, centering on the only portion of the building which yet remained dry. Kayla sat there, shivering and hugging her bare brown knees to her chest as she looked through the windows out into the dark waters. She’d thought to bring a jumper with her, which she’d previously donned, but had nothing to put over her summer shorts.

I brought a hand up to my mouth, resting the first knuckle against my lips as I mentally sketched my intended design across her space. I could see the ambient light play over the edge of my fingers, illuminating the edge of my dark hand with a steady pulse of green-blue. I’d moved away from my flat and deep into the caves of the Land of Logic and Clarity some time ago. There was something about this place, a more profound quality than the mere streaks of light which moved across the cavern walls, that made it easier to think. And think I had.

Eventually, I had devised a solution. Not the solution, mind, but merely a solution, one which would buy time for more thinking. I selected the outer wall, plate glass windows framed with thin bars of steel, and cloned it, re-orienting before I dragged it across the room in an orthogonal direction. This was inordinately expensive, compared to the pittance I’d received from recycling existing architecture. As I worked, I saw Kayla flinch away from the sudden wall, then again as she stepped backwards into a puddle.

She was typing on her computer now, probably in an attempt to contact me. I would check in a minute. For now, I needed to complete the necessary form before our short time would run out. My brow furrowed in concentration as I placed the walls, ensuring that every corner of the new construction was joined with no gaps. When I’d nearly finished, I moved the camera view back, nodding as I admired my handiwork. That would do nicely. Now, it was time for the difficult part. I brought the chat up, tiling it next to the client window.

**ScholarAquatic:** What are you doing? I thought you had a plan to get me out of here! You know there’s already water coming up the stairs, right?  
 **SA:** Okay, you’re ignoring me. I really don’t appreciate that. I have a right to know what your plan is. I’m willing to trust you, but I don’t like being kept in the dark!  
 **SA:** Why does nobody ever answer me when I talk to them?  
 **LogicalStrategist:** I was occupied implementing the plan. I did not wish to inform you before it was ready, in case the plan proved infeasible. It still remains to be seen if it will work, but for the moment I am optimistic.  
 **SA:** Thank you, finally. Also, you just said a lot of words, but none of them actually answered my question. What’s your plan for me?  
 **LS:** You are more intelligent than this. You know full well what my plan is.  
 **SA:** Nuh-uh, no way. I am not going up into that deathtrap! I was going to give you a chance to say anything other than that, but then you had to go and say it anyway. This is the worst plan!  
 **LS:** It is a perfectly acceptable plan, in this scenario which offers precious few opportunities for such. If there had been a better plan available, I would have executed it. If there is another way out of your predicament, some application of magical ability yet to be seen for example, it has yet to present itself. Barring the intervention of such forces beyond the explanation of science, I quite frankly fail to see any better method of preservation.  
 **SA:** I am not a jar of peaches!  
 **LS:** I’m sorry, I fail to understand what that has to do with anything.  
 **SA:** You don’t get to preserve me like fruit! I’m a human being with a life. I don’t want to be dead and mushy in a glass cage! You’d better come up with another plan quick, because there’s no way in heck I’m climbing up in that deathtrap.

I sat back, adjusting my glasses with trembling fingers as I blinked at the chat log in confusion. She was being irrational and nonsensical. The refuge of safety I’d constructed for her — hardly a cage! — in no way resembled a jar of fruit preserves. Why she’d latched onto that one particular concept I failed to comprehend, but regardless I needed a moment to determine how best to route her back to a more productive approach.

If the water kept rising, I noted with a grim sense of tension, the argument would be irrelevant. Her choice would be made for her: either to enter the safety I offered and be sealed inside, or to remain outside, unpreserved, and drown. I would gain no satisfaction from such an event, merely sorrow and frustration that it had come to that. It was, after all, the outcome I sought to avoid.

As I pondered the situation, a new chat request appeared on my screen. It was from a user name I did not recognize, likely one of the team members I had yet to meet. I frowned, bristling at the possibility that she’d gotten someone else to come tell me off on her behalf. Even if so, however, it could be an opportunity to convince somebody else to take my side. At the very least, it might be more rational than having a shouting match about fruit, of all things. I opened the window.

**ElectronicDealer:** Hey what’s up  
 **ED:** Charlie, right?  
 **ED:** I’m Daniel Park, but you can call me Dan  
 **ED:** Nice to have you on board  
 **ED:** I hope you’re not afk or anything  
 **ED:** This is kinda awkward if I’m a crazy dude talking to myself

Well, this Daniel didn’t seem to be taking the offensive. Perhaps the timing had been mere coincidence. As tempting as that thought was, I found it difficult to believe. Simply put, I didn’t believe in coincidence as a matter of principle. Everything happens for a reason, and all of it is connected by logical explanation. Still, he seemed amicable enough, for the moment. There would likely be no harm in hearing him out.

**LogicalStrategist:** Yes, I am Charles Robertson. I am here, but events have reached a moment of tension. I can speak, but only for a minute.  
 **ED:** Monsters hassling you too?  
 **LS:** At the moment, no. I am finding it difficult to persuade your friend Kayla to enter the refuge I have prepared for her, despite the immediacy and magnitude of her peril.  
 **ED:** Oh man, she’s still sinking?  
 **ED:** She’s not usually like that though  
 **ED:** Did you make some rickety escape pod or something?  
 **LS:** The construction is perfectly sound. It is merely a sealed chamber, designed to buy time for the implementation of a better solution. However, the water is rising, and she refuses to enter. She began going on about jars of peaches, and I fail to understand the relevance of her reaction.  
 **ED:** Oh dude, you don’t know  
 **ED:** She’s super claustrophobic  
 **LS:** Well, that explains everything. Why couldn’t she have just said that?  
 **ED:** Because she’s scared  
 **ED:** And she knows she’ll have to go inside eventually  
 **ED:** So I bet she’s pretty much freaking out right now  
 **ED:** Can you make it bigger?  
 **LS:** Given the cost of new construction and the incredibly limited quantities of Grist I have to work with, that is not an option.  
 **ED:** Bro, I have a whole bunch here  
 **ED:** Can’t you take some of mine?

Could it truly be that easy? I clicked through the interface, a deep furrow growing in my brow as I explored every option available to me. While I could see both my own Grist totals and that of my client player, I was unable to initiate a transfer in either direction, let alone to a player further along the circular chain of connections.

**LS:** That does not appear to be the case.  
 **ED:** Bummer  
 **ED:** And you’re sure about this, there’s no other way?  
 **LS:** Any other possible solution, if such even exists, has not yet occurred to me. This is the only path I can see that will prevent her imminent death, and preserve the possibility of rescue for the future.  
 **ED:** Alright then  
 **ED:** I’ll talk to her  
 **ED:** Hold up though because I need to ask you something after

I settled back against the cave’s rough-hewn stone wall, watching my screen as Kayla’s attention returned to her computer. She sat down, lifting it onto her lap as she read the screen. Frowning, she shook her head, typing something back. I panned and rotated the camera, the desire to know what he was saying to her — and she to him — burning in my mind, but despite my efforts the resolution was too poor to make out what was being said.

Daniel seemed a decent enough sort, if excessively casual with his language. I was glad to find that my initial assumption of conspiracy against me had been incorrect. He even seemed to be on my side in the matter, at least insofar as this step of the plan was concerned. The Grist transfer had been a clever idea as well, despite its ultimate failure. It had never even occurred to me to check if Grist could be transferred between players. That had been intelligent, almost as intelligent as—

A whisper of flute music from down the tunnel interrupted my thoughts. Balancing my laptop with one hand, my other went to the crossbow laying beside me, checking the bolt. It was loaded and drawn, ready to fire. I quieted my breathing, listening hard. Had it been my imagination? No, there it was again! Something — an imp, most likely — was down here, playing that dreadful melody. I listened a little longer, relaxing my grip on my weapon only as the music receded. Right now, I wasn’t looking for a fight; it would only distract me from more important matters.

More important matters such as what was happening on my screen, even as I sat here distracted. Kayla was beginning to pack up, and my chat with Daniel was flashing once again.

**ED:** Done  
 **ED:** She’s not happy about it, but she’ll do it  
 **ED:** Be patient with her, ok?  
 **LS:** I will try. Thank you for your assistance.  
 **ED:** Anytime, dude  
 **ED:** So hey, what I meant to ask you  
 **ED:** There’s kind of this situation, no big deal but trying to get it figured out  
 **ED:** Don’t suppose you smoke?  
 **LS:** No, do you?  
 **ED:** Smoke what?  
 **ED:** Never mind, bad joke  
 **ED:** Anyone else in your house then, or got a pack laying around for some reason?  
 **ED:** Or maybe even a photo or an ad, you know?  
 **LS:** No, why would I have anything like that? What could you possibly require that for?  
 **ED:** Design-it stuff  
 **ED:** There’s a lot Alex and I figured out  
 **ED:** I’ll copy everyone on it later, kinda busy right now  
 **ED:** Point is, it’s apparently stupid hard to Design-itize a pack of cigs  
 **ED:** Dunno why  
 **LS:** Well I still fail to comprehend why you would ever want to. Just so you can avoid wasting your time asking, neither Jamie nor his mother smoke.  
 **ED:** Yeah I just checked with him  
 **ED:** He seems cool, definitely looking forward to hanging later  
 **ED:** Anyway, I appreciate your answer too, even if it was no  
 **ED:** Catch you soon to talk about the Design-it  
 **ED:** Later

My mouth twisted as I swallowed hard, uncomfortable with the turn that conversation had taken. Jamie was my friend, not his, and the presumptuous familiarity — they were most certainly not going to “hang” later — stung like a nettle under my skin. Daniel must have gotten Jamie’s user name from that Russian girl he’d connected with. I didn’t like that he had stepped around me, and on such an inane request no less. I’d thought we’d left such vices well behind us.

Shaking off the unpleasant thought direction, I re-focused my attention on the matter at hand. Kayla was standing in ankle-deep water now, her expression anxious as she waited for a reply to our conversation, which flashed insistently at the bottom of the window. I switched chats, reading the messages she’d left for me.

**SA:** I’m sorry, I know you’re trying. I know you don’t think I’m fruit preserves, really, I do. I don’t know why I said any of that. I guess I got freaked and just started rambling, I don’t really know.  
 **SA:** Anyway, if you’re there, the water is still rising. If you really think this is the only way, I’ll do it. But I’m not sure how you want me to get up there, it’s awfully high.  
 **LA:** Thank you. If you could step back, I will make some stairs for you to climb.

I carefully drew a narrow flight of stairs from the top of the railing up into the rafters, the utmost peak of the building where I had chosen to place my construction. I had this budgeted down to the very last grist, assuming my maths were correct. Deleting these stairs — as a new construction, they would give me a full refund — would leave me with precisely the amount required to seal the gap. I watched as she climbed up, heaving her backpack in before pausing at the opening. She looked around, took a deep breath, then closed her eyes and stepped inside. I removed the stairs and dragged a wall over the gap behind her, sealing the miniature room.

She sank to the floor, eyes closed and knees clasped to her chest once more. I could see her shoulders rise and fall steadily with slow, deep breaths. Daniel had been right; the girl was clearly terrified. It struck me how alone she looked, as water continued to rise into the rain forest exhibit. I wanted to help, truly I did, but for now there was nothing else I could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music for the Land of Logic and Clarity: [Spellbound - Buffy the Vampire Slayer OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzDvm9ZCq7o&feature=youtu.be)  
> Charlie also has a character song! Not all characters do, but I stumbled across this and it's very much him, especially when he's working on a problem: [So Cold (Breaking Benjamin cover) - Vitamin String Quartet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjlbIGJKmnw)
> 
> The smartest person in the room is obviously Charlie. I'm not sure I agree with him that Daniel is the second smartest, though. I think it depends on what type of intelligence you're looking for. Daniel's very intuitive, and makes connections other people might overlook. But if you're looking for someone who can actually pass a math test, you're better off looking elsewhere.
> 
> I promise I'm done introducing viewpoint characters. Charlie was the last one. There are no more. Twelve is enough!


	21. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8/28/20 update

I nearly chucked my phone at the wall but caught myself at the last moment, slamming it into my other palm instead. A sharp sting filled my hand and I winced, rubbing the spot near my thumb where a corner of the case had stabbed me. Taking a deep breath, I looked back at the log, reminding myself it wasn’t Dan’s fault. It was my fault. My own fucking fault. Don’t take it out on him, not Dan. Never Dan.

 **ElectronicDealer:** Sorry bro, but I just don’t think there’s anything else to try  
 **ED:** They’re gone and I don’t think we can get them back  
 **BerettasRevenge:** this is the stupidest fucking thing  
 **ED:** I know  
 **ED:** It blows  
 **BR:** it does blow  
 **BR:** it blows like  
 **BR:** like some stupid thing i cant even think right now  
 **ED:** I got you bro  
 **ED:** Implied vulgar sexual reference secured  
 **BR:** thanks  
 **ED:** I think what you need to do is  
 **BR:** throw myself out the window and get it over with  
 **ED:** No, let me finish before you go do anything dramatic  
 **ED:** What you need to do is something to get your mind off this  
 **ED:** Right now you’re sitting around stewing in your crazy  
 **ED:** Don’t do that  
 **BR:** what the fuck else am i supposed to do  
 **ED:** Go shoot something

I huffed, letting myself collapse back onto the couch. The cushion sunk down beneath me, causing everything else piled on the couch to start sliding. Snatching my beretta up before it could fall, I turned it over in my hands, considering Dan’s idea as everything else clattered to the ground. Normally I’d be down for that, but right now I kind of didn’t want to. I didn’t want to do anything, other than sit around stewing in my — Jesus Christ that was insulting! But true, and Dan knew it.

This wasn’t the first time I’d run out and had to wait to get more, so I knew exactly how this would go. Maybe he was right, and I should go shoot something to get my mind off things for a little while before the headache kicked in. It would be the smart thing to do.  
This whole thing was just so fucking unfair. There were only two things I wanted right now, and I couldn’t have either of them. Couldn’t even ask for the second. It wouldn’t be fair to Dan to make him choose between me and his sister. I knew he’d pick her anyway, and it would hurt him to have to say it, so fuck even asking.

Once the network of those spinny gate things was better connected, I could go the long way around and meet him on his planet. That was the plan I was holding onto, dangling over a bottomless pit as my fingers scrabbled against the too-smooth ledge. The thing was, who knew when that would even be? I wanted a hug now, not next week. Next week was fucking Mars as far as I was concerned.

 **BR:** what if i dont want to do that  
 **ED:** Then we’ve been infiltrated by an impostor  
 **ED:** And the situation is way worse than I’d thought

He was trying to be funny. I appreciated the thought, but no. If I needed any more signs that I was totally fucked in the head right now, my not being able to even chuckle at Dan’s bad jokes was flashing neon. I pulled my legs up onto the couch, curling into the corner as I tapped out my response.

 **BR:** none of this is how i thought it would be  
 **ED:** I feel you, bro  
 **ED:** Same here  
 **BR:** i just wanted to play a game  
 **BR:** hang out with friends  
 **BR:** hang out with you  
 **ED:** Yeah  
 **ED:** It was going to be so much fun  
 **ED:** And then I dunno  
 **ED:** Reality just happened  
 **ED:** We’ll still meet up though, just not exactly how we thought it would be  
 **ED:** It’ll be ok, I promise  
 **BR:** i know  
 **BR:** i just want it now  
 **ED:** I’ll come over in a while, when I get Mimi more settled  
 **ED:** I’m just not comfortable leaving her alone yet, you know?  
 **BR:** i guess  
 **BR:** dont rush it though  
 **BR:** shes more important  
 **ED:** I know  
 **ED:** Just sit tight for a few days, I know you can do it

He had more faith in me than I did. Still, a few days was better than a week, or who knew how long. I didn’t want to wait a few days, but I could. I felt some of the weight clearing from my mind as I clung to that thought, like the Millennium Falcon moving into position somewhere far below. The timing would be tight, but I could make the drop. Maybe.

 **ED:** Hey you know what you should do  
 **ED:** You should talk to Kayla  
 **ED:** She’s having a rough time too, and you could both use a distraction

Sudden guilt washed over me, my stomach lurching as it hit. I’d completely forgotten about Kayla. The last I’d really thought about her was when she’d been ew-ing out at Spidey-sprite, and that had been ages ago. I’d known she’d been in some trouble back then, but surely she’d gotten out of that mess by now, right? I’d just assumed. God, I was such a shitty friend. Why did anyone even put up with me?

 **ED:** I’m not trying to get rid of you or anything  
 **BR:** no i know  
 **BR:** sorry i was thinking  
 **BR:** yeah youre right  
 **BR:** i should talk to her  
 **ED:** Alright yeah I think that’s a good idea  
 **ED:** Hit me up anytime, I’m busy but I’ve got my phone on me  
 **BR:** sure  
 **ED:** Later

I curled up tighter, tapping on my screen to pull up the conversation from earlier. She hadn’t said anything. Was she even watching? Probably not, because of Spidey-sprite. It seemed perfectly happy to stay in the kitchen half of the room, so I didn’t get the big deal about that, but whatever.

 **BerettasRevenge:** hey k are you there

I sent the message, not really expecting to get a reply right away. But it came almost instantly, catching me off guard.

 **ScholarAquatic:** Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?  
 **BR:** how you holding up  
 **SA:** I’m not. I’m probably going to die here, stuck in this glass coffin at the bottom of a video game ocean. So how’s your day?  
 **BR:** shit  
 **BR:** but not that much shit wow  
 **SA:** I’m glad I could help you put your problems, whatever they might be, in perspective.  
 **BR:** yeah  
 **BR:** so do you want me to fuck off and stop bugging you  
 **BR:** or do you want to talk or something  
 **BR:** get your mind off stuff  
 **SA:** Please no, I don’t want you to go away. I’d love to talk. Everything’s so quiet down here, I guess because the water is like insulation. It makes sense, but the silence messes with your head after a while.  
 **SA:** Actually, I have a question. You might be able to help.  
 **BR:** go for it  
 **SA:** You’ve told someone you love them before, right?

The fuck? I re-read that line a couple times, convinced I’d gotten it wrong. But no, that was what it actually said.

 **BR:** uh  
 **BR:** thats a weird fucking question k  
 **BR:** out of the blue like that  
 **BR:** why the sudden interest  
 **SA:** I don’t know, you’re the most experienced of anyone I know, in that way. I mean, you’ve been with half a dozen people, right?

What. No. Three people, and that was three more than she was supposed to know about, never mind half a dozen. And I’d certainly never told any of them I’d loved them. I couldn’t believe Nat had blabbed. Wait, no. I could totally believe that. She was the gossip queen. But I’d thought she’d known better than to say it to Kayla!

 **BR:** wow  
 **BR:** thats not true  
 **BR:** also youre not supposed to know about that  
 **BR:** i specifically said not to tell you  
 **SA:** You specifically said not to tell me about the thing that isn’t true?  
 **BR:** what no  
 **BR:** ok  
 **BR:** it wasnt that many  
 **BR:** and it wasnt like how you think either  
 **BR:** i was with them but i wasnt with them  
 **SA:** What do you mean?

Fuck. What did I mean? I closed my eyes, the memory of too-loud music and wild dancing coming to the forefront. Lots of parties. Lots of people. Some of them wanted to hang a little closer, a few even closer than that. And, rarely, someone wanted to go all the way. That’s what you do when you party, right? But that’s not love, even I know that. It’s just fun.

 **BR:** they were hook ups k  
 **BR:** i didn’t tell you because i thought you wouldnt like it  
 **SA:** Well, I don’t really. You’re worth more than that.  
 **BR:** see this is why  
 **SA:** I’m not going to lecture you any more than that. Last week I might have, but everything’s different now. It seems like such a small thing to tell someone off for.  
 **SA:** Anyway, I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t find out, with all the bragging you did to Nat. I guess I just got the completely wrong impression.

Yeah, that had been on me. That was just sort of what we did lately, Nat and I, constantly one-upping each other to win the game, whatever it even was anymore. I didn’t really know. All I’d cared was it was flirty, fun, and passed the time when Dan wasn’t around. I should have known my cocky bragging would come back to bite me in the ass.

 **SA:** Sorry for asking weird questions, just forget about it.  
 **BR:** sorry im useless  
 **SA:** Don’t say things like that. You’re not useless. I’m sitting here in a tiny glass box, trying not to freak out as I slowly but surely sink below the surface of the ocean, with no sign of any of the game features Charlie has said I should be seeing. There’s no way out, and I’m probably going to die, but you’re here to help me be less alone. So thank you.  
 **BR:** is there anything i can do  
 **SA:** Like what? I’m stuck all the way down here, and you’re over there. I can’t think what you might possibly be able to do to help, other than keeping me company.

This was so fucking frustrating. Everything kept getting stuck on that problem. That I was here, and everyone I cared about and wanted to reach was over there, somewhere far away. It was always just wait. Wait until I’m back from New York. Wait until the sburb launch. Wait until Mimi is settled. Wait until the gates are set up. I was fed up with waiting. I wanted to do something!

Hold on. There’d been a thought just there, in the middle of all that. I frowned, lowering my phone as I ran my hand through my hair. There it was! I didn’t have to sit here and wait. Dan might be five hops away from me, but Kayla was only one gate away. The plan began to take shape in my mind, but everything came to a screeching halt as I realized the glaring flaw.

Crossing through the gate to Kayla would mean moving away from Dan. I could go to her now, but it would mean putting her ahead of Dan. It would also mean he couldn’t come to me until Kayla’s situation was secure, and who knew when that would be? I was supposed to stay put, and I couldn’t just run away from that on a whim, no matter how much I wanted to. It wouldn’t be fair to him. I wrestled with the choice, tabbing back to the old conversation.

 **BR:** man theres a thing  
 **ED:** I told you to shoot it  
 **ED:** They give grist  
 **BR:** no not those things  
 **BR:** i talked to k  
 **ED:** How’s she doing?  
 **BR:** bad  
 **BR:** i have an idea  
 **BR:** but i have to leave locac  
 **ED:** Locac?  
 **BR:** land of crystals and corridors  
 **ED:** Oh right, I like the short form  
 **ED:** Do it  
 **BR:** ?  
 **ED:** Whatever your idea is, do it   
**ED:** Better than sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, right?  
 **ED:** We’ve waited this long, so what’s a bit longer?  
 **BR:** youre sure about this  
 **BR:** you wont be able to follow  
 **BR:** not for a while or maybe ever  
 **ED:** Yeah bro, I’m sure  
 **ED:** We’ll catch up when we catch up  
 **ED:** And it will happen, I’ll make sure of it  
 **ED:** Good luck, and don’t forget your phone  
 **BR:** i wont

I nodded to nobody in particular, adjusting my position on the couch as I switched back to my chat with Kayla.

 **BR:** hey k you still have your laptop right  
 **SA:** Yeah, but I only have limited battery and no way to charge it up anymore, so I can’t use it very much. Why?  
 **BR:** im going to go out and get some grist  
 **BR:** give me some time  
 **BR:** then get on sburb and build up for me ok  
 **SA:** Build up for you? What are you talking about?  
 **BR:** oh shit dan didnt tell you  
 **BR:** ok well tldr glowing circles up above my building  
 **BR:** use the server tools to build a path up there and dont stop until you hit them  
 **BR:** please  
 **SA:** I don’t really understand why, but I think I can do that. I’ll give you a couple hours head start so I don’t waste the battery.  
 **BR:** thanks k  
 **BR:** hang in there  
 **SA:** It’s not like I have much of a choice. It’s either hanging in here, or drowning out there.

I popped up off the couch, tucking my phone away as my mind grappled with the plan. Kayla had her job, and I had mine. I could just go out there and start shooting imps, but there was supposed to be some kind of main quest line for my planet, right? That would probably give the biggest rewards with the least amount of effort, which was exactly what I was after. I’d only been half-listening, but it was supposed to be down some kind of tunnel, right? Where did Spidey-sprite go? I had questions to ask.

* * *

The temperature dropped as the stairs leveled out into a straight, flat hallway, smooth-hewn through the hard rock surface of LOCAC. I paused for a moment to do up the buttons on my coat, the best thing I’d ever found at a thrift store. I didn’t know what it was called, but it reminded me of the old uniforms soldiers used to wear, back before ugly camo print was a thing. Most importantly, it was warm enough and then some for any winter I’d ever had to face.

Adjusting the straps of my backpack — all remnants of education having been swapped for water and snack bars — I shined my flashlight around the walls. They were dark gray, intersecting the floor and ceiling with sharp corners, and entirely unremarkable, just like the surface up above. This land had a certain sameness to it that made my brain itch.

I started walking, my footsteps echoing through the darkness. I didn’t know what I could expect down here. Well, other than corridors, obviously. Crystals had also been promised, and so far I was feeling totally ripped off on that front. Dan had sent me pictures of some of the quartz he’d found just laying around outside on LOQAG, each cluster with a pair of huge rectangular crystal columns rising from the middle like some kind of monument. That was badass. This was just boring.

The more I walked, the lousier I felt. I stopped to sip some of my water, shining my light forward and back. The stairs were well out of range of my light, and I could see no change in the corridor ahead, even on the flashlight’s brightest setting. Worse, it was quiet down here. Too fucking quiet. I’d dispatched several imps on the way from my building to the entrance, so where did they all go? How was I supposed to earn any grist if there was nothing to kill?

Maybe coming down here had been a mistake. I was really winning the decision game today, wasn’t I? I put the bottle away, turning back the way I’d just come. It had been better hunting on the surface, and I hadn’t even been trying. This quest, whatever it was, could wait. I began to retrace my steps, my light bouncing along the floor as I walked.

Christ, I’d walked a long way. It hadn’t seemed so long on my way in. Maybe it was the headache starting to pulse behind my eyes, or my throat, dry again. I stopped twice to swallow some water, as cool on my parched lips as the air that surrounded me. I really should have gotten back to the stairs by now. How long had I been down here, anyway?

Pulling out my phone to check the time, my eyes widened. What the shit? If that clock was right, I’d been walking for four long hours. It hadn’t felt that long, but how could you tell down here, with nothing to mark the time? Still, I knew for a fact that I hadn’t gone two hours in before turning back. So I should have come back to the stairs by now, but I couldn’t even see them in the distance. Something down here was fucking with me, and I didn’t like that one bit.

I turned around, facing back the direction I’d originally been going. If it wouldn’t let me go backward — and, for the record, fuck that! — then I would have to go forward. I walked faster now, fueled by my irritation at the trap I’d walked right into. I was wasting my time down here, earning no grist, while Kayla was up there waiting for me. Useless!

I kept my phone closer at hand after that, and checked the time whenever I stopped for a sip of water. I watched as minutes turned to hours, an ache growing through my feet. I’d never walked so far in my life. I stopped to eat one of the snack bars, forcing myself to swallow the fruity, crumbly mess. As I was washing it down with another gulp of water, my flashlight bouncing around to illuminate the area around my feet, I noticed something far ahead down the corridor.

I peered ahead into the darkness, trying to comprehend what I was seeing. It was almost like a faint light, but it also wasn’t. At least, it wasn’t any kind of light I was familiar with. I couldn’t even tell what color it was. It was the color of darkness, maybe? No, that wasn’t right, because if it was the same color as darkness how could I see it? I rubbed my brow, fighting against the sudden surge of my headache. I really didn’t need this anti-light shit right now. Or any time, really. But especially not now.

I continued trudging forward, moving against the alarms that blared in my head, telling me to turn back. It was weird. It was ominous. Above all else, it was just plain wrong. But it was the way forward, and — seeing as my other options had been taken away from me — I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. I dimmed my flashlight to better see what I was walking into, advancing through the near-darkness as it grew closer and brighter.

Soon I could see that the light came from an object in the center of the hallway. No, I realized as I continued closer, that was wrong. Up ahead, the passage opened up into a room which contained a pedestal. On that pedestal was a crystal, which appeared to be the source of the anti-light. It was large enough to need both arms to carry if I wanted to pick it up, which I didn’t. Not even a little bit.

I could feel it as I approached, the wrongness radiating off it. I turned my flashlight off all the way to save the battery, letting it dangle from my wrist as I stepped around the pedestal, using just the anti-light it released to examine it. Five spires jutted from the base of the crystal, reaching towards the ceiling to end in a cluster of uneven points. The surface was smooth, mirroring my reflection back to me in a way that made my head ache even harder.

Stepping back, I looked around the room. There was only one exit: the way I’d entered. And I knew just how useless retracing my steps was. I’d been pushed forward into this room, to the end of the line. But for what? Clearly I was meant to do something, but I was drawing a blank. What had Spidey-sprite said? Not much, just something about seizing control of destiny in the corridors below. So far I didn’t feel very in control.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was getting ripped off hard, here. Dan had time travel and sweet quartz formations. And what did I have? One-way corridors and stupid-ass mystery crystals that I swear were making my fucking headache worse with every moment I wasted down here.

I grimaced, stepping forward and grasping one of the spires. I could feel a muffled prickling in my fingers, as if I’d touched something with a static charge. Nothing about the anti-light seemed to change, nor did anything horrible happen, so I did it. I seized my destiny, and I pulled as hard as I could.

Nothing happened. I switched tactics to push instead, to no avail. The crystal was stuck to the pedestal as if it had grown from it, as much an immovable part of the landscape as the walls or the stairs had been. Letting go, I wiped my numb palms on the outside of my coat, stepping back to assess the situation. I couldn’t go forward. I couldn’t go backward. I couldn’t do anything to the crystal. So what was the fucking point, other than to trap me down here and make me miserable?

I shook my head, clenching my hands into fists to stop them from trembling. This was too much. I had to get out of here. There had to be a way back! I turned, my heart thundering up into my ears as I found myself facing a smooth wall. The corridor I’d come through had gone, sealed the room with me inside. I was completely trapped in here, alone with that thing!

I pressed my back against the wall, my hand shaking so hard I could barely draw my gun from the holster. Forcing myself to slow down, to take a deep breath, I thumbed the safety off and sighted. But my aim wavered all around, unable to stay on target. What was I doing? This was crazy. The stupid thing wasn’t going to suddenly grow legs and attack me.

Or was it? Walls weren’t supposed to close themselves up when you weren’t looking either, and last I’d checked infinite corridors were impossible, too. It seemed to me I was already well down the rabbit hole into the fucking crazy zone, so who knew what might happen next. Well, I wouldn’t give it a chance to get the first strike!

The sound of my breathing filled my ears, uneven and punctuated by my heavy, too-fast heartbeats. This entire situation was such bullshit. I just wanted to help, to be there for a friend. And now I was stuck down here, trapped in a quest that seemed hellbent on taking away all my options and leaving me with no way out. Forget seizing control of my destiny. Right about now, I wanted to burn that motherfucker down.

I lowered my weapon, taking a moment to rest my tense, aching arms. That was a mistake. As soon as the barrel of the gun pointed towards the ground, the crystal pulsed, sending a flare of anti-light that burst through my vision and into my mind like a dozen needles. I clenched them shut, gritting my teeth as I brought my gun up to fire blind. One, two, three shots — there was a sound like breaking glass as I finally hit my target. I opened my eyes into pitch darkness — a welcome sight — just as the floor dropped out beneath me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea that Alex habitually leaves their handgun casually sitting on the edge of the couch when they're not using it. You just know it's loaded, too. At least they're usually pretty good about the safety.
> 
> The Star Wars reference is that scene from Empire Strikes Back where Darth Vader is all like "Join me, it's the only way!" and Luke is like "FU, I'm out!" and then he falls all the way down and dangles on that antenna thing until Leia and Lando get the force call to come save him. This was unintentional themeing that I only caught when I checked my reference against the movie during editing. I do think it's hilarious that Alex cast themself as Luke, of all characters. Oh sure, you talk the Han talk, but when it comes time to actually imagine yourself in a scene you're _all about the protagonist_ , aren't you?
> 
> Music for the corridors of LOCAC: [Selenitic Mystgate - Myst OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fLhuNuatPU)


	22. Kayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9/4/20 update

I leaned out the window, closing my eyes to best enjoy the warm sunlight as it danced across my skin. You could take away my freedom, my hope to ever see land again, but the one thing you could never take from me were my dreams. I drew comfort from the familiar golden city, as I had every night for as long as I could remember. I opened my eyes, taking in the view once more.

From my window, I could see a massive chain which tethered the smaller satellite I was on to the main body. There were two tapered spires, a globe balanced upon the tip of each. From the gently rounded walls and arched ceiling of this chamber, I assumed I stood in a third such sphere, inside a gilded bedroom fit for nobility. I even wore a long, fancy nightgown, complete with puffed shoulders, in the same bright shade that pervaded everything here.

The only problem was, there was no way out of the room. I knew this from many attempts at exploration over the years, which had turned up no stairs, no door, and only the one window. But while I was just as trapped here as I had been in my glass cage beneath the dark waters, how could I feel like a captive when I was somewhere so warm and bright?

My thoughts weren’t warm and bright, though. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. I understood that this was only a dream, a brief respite from the horror story I was living. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t relax and try to enjoy the break. I sank down against the windowsill, resting my cheek against golden-sleeved arms as I closed my eyes, drifting away into my thoughts.

I didn’t know what craziness Alex was up to, and I hoped I hadn’t made them uncomfortable asking weird questions. All of a sudden, the concept of mortality had come crashing down around me and I realized that time was running out, that maybe they could help me figure out how to say it. But of course not, not when I couldn’t even bring myself to admit why I was asking in the first place. And if I couldn’t even do that, how could I have possibly expected to tell someone I was in love with her? The outcome had already been written on the wall; I was just too stupid and foolish to have seen it.

My eyes fluttered open once again, a heavy sigh escaping as I pushed myself upright. Huh, that was odd. I shielded my eyes, peering out toward one of the other spires. Something was spilling from the window. I couldn’t see it, hear it, or detect it in any way I could explain, but some sixth sense deep inside me prickled, recoiling back at the sensation of utter wrongness that seethed from atop the spire.

I stepped back from the window, retreating into the safety of my dream bedroom, but even that provided little shelter. I could still sense it out there, growing thicker with every moment that passed. I closed my eyes, shielding my face with my arms as I huddled in the corner. Outside, in my perfect dream world, the nightmare pulsed again, and again, and—

I awoke with a shock, gasping in air as I blinked in the dim luminescence. Shivering, I sat up, finding myself back beneath the ocean once again. Though of course I’d never left, not really. How long had I been asleep? I woke my computer up, trying not to worry about the state of the battery as I checked the clock. Not long, it turned out. A new message from Charles was flashing, which I ignored; he could hold his horses for just one minute.

I switched back over to the server client, watching as grist poured in. Whatever Alex was doing, it seemed they’d just struck a windfall. I navigated to the roof of their building, using the server tools to add another layer. Just one more to go and then I’d be done with my end of the bargain, to build up to the first deep green, pulsating circle. If only I knew what Alex had in mind for it.

Having exhausted the burst of grist, and knowing there wouldn’t be any more for some time if previous patterns kept up, I couldn’t justify my procrastination any longer. I pulled the chat client up, wincing as a previous conversation came up by default. I was such a coward. Even now, I couldn’t look away, my eyes running over every word of that train wreck as if by reading it again I might somehow find a reason why I wasn’t completely pathetic.

 **ScholarAquatic:** Hey Nat are you there? I know you’re busy, but I really need to talk to you about something.  
**DigitalHorticulturist:** Kayla hello. What’s wrong?  
**SA:** Who said something was wrong? Well, a lot of things are wrong, but I meant the thing I might need to talk about. How do you know that’s wrong?  
**DH:** You’re not making sense.  
**SA:** I’m sorry. Look, I’m going to just come out and say it. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I’m not really sure how it goes. I’m just going to give it a go, because this might be the last chance I’ve got.  
**DH:** Don’t talk like that. You will find a way out.  
**SA:** Nat shush while I’m trying to talk please. This is important. I’ve been wanting to say it for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how. So, here goes.  
**SA:** I really like your hair.  
**DH:** Thank you?  
**SA:** Yeah. It’s great hair. It’s all shiny, and super long, and you look like a shampoo commercial, and I just wanted you to know that I thought it was really great.  
**DH:** Maybe you need to go to sleep.  
**SA:** Yes I think a nap is an excellent idea, thank you! I will do that right now. Goodnight!

Stupid, stupid, stupid! I knocked my skull backwards into the glass window to punctuate each mental admonishment, grimacing at my own pathetic cop-out. Of course I liked her hair, it was beautiful hair. But that was just one tiny shard of everything I liked about her. I hadn’t intended to only mention the hair, or to even bring it up at all, but when it had come down to it I’d blushed, sweated and completely chickened out. So pathetic.

I hit the X, closing the chat out completely. I didn’t want that history popping back up again, not ever. I could feel my face heating up again just from the memory of it. Another text alert sounded, dragging my attention away from the humiliations of my past and into the problems of my present. I opened the other chat, catching up on what I’d missed while I was waking up.

 **LogicalStrategist:** I need you to wake up immediately. I see an opportunity, but it will only be available for the briefest of moments. You must be ready.  
**LS:** Of all the times for you to be asleep, why have you chosen this one? Please forgive me for what I am about to do, as there is simply no time to delay while you finish your nap.  
**LS:** Again, I apologize. I could see no other way to wake you in time. I would urge you to please attend to this conversation, but as you are unable to hear me such an attempt would be futile. I must, therefore, wait until you’ve attended to all manner of diversions and distractions, before turning your attention toward what is obviously the least important matter waiting for your attention.

Wow, he was being extra sarcastic. What had him all bitter and grumpy? You’d think he’d been the one cramped up down here for the past — God, I don’t even know how long. It felt like forever, but it had actually been less than a day, hadn’t it?

 **ScholarAquatic:** Geez, I’m here. Can’t you let a girl wake up? What did you do to me, anyway?  
**LS:** I lifted and dropped your bag upon your person until the force woke you up. Again, I apologize, but please listen to me. You are almost out of time, and will need to move quickly if you wish to take advantage of the approaching minimum.  
**SA:** The approaching minimum what? I don’t understand.  
**LS:** I have received some intelligence from others on your team. It seems that, while I was embroiled in deeper mysteries, they were asking questions regarding more practical matters. Namely, the means of travel through this Medium.  
**SA:** Which is?  
**LS:** Primarily, the network of gates, both structured and free. The former allow travel between planets, while the latter serve as methods of return to a central, presumed safe, location on a given planet.  
**SA:** Well one of those is sounding pretty nice right about now.  
**LS:** I concur, which is precisely why I mean to take advantage of the occasion. Look behind you, please.

I turned, wiping a thin layer of condensation from the glass. I could see something glowing outside, a round shape that sent pulses of white light through the dark water. I couldn’t tell how far away it was, but it seemed to be a little ways beneath me.

 **SA:** I see it. That’s one of those free return gates?  
**LS:** I believe so. It appears similar in form to the gates observed on my own planet, though naturally of a different color. I propose to send you through it, with any luck allowing you to move freely around your planet once more.  
**SA:** But where will it take me?  
**LS:** I do not know. Scouting for possible destinations is above my ability, as the camera is locked to whatever structure you have claimed as your base of operations. In fact, I expect I will be unable to see you once you have passed through the gate.

He was right about that. I’d tried moving the camera to see what Alex was up to, but it remained stuck upon their apartment building no matter what I tried.

 **SA:** I don’t know about this plan.  
**LS:** It may be your only opportunity to escape. I refuse to believe that a return gate would have been placed here, directly adjacent to your line of descent, if you were not meant to use it. There are no coincidences.  
**SA:** How will I reach it? It’s not going to pass through the aquarium, is it?  
**LS:** No, it will not. You will have to swim out to it. I believe you are capable, but you will need to leave everything that could slow or impede you behind. Any extra weight, no matter how slight, could be the difference between success and failure. You will also need to hurry, as the minimum will be reached in slightly under a minute’s time.

Less than a minute? He hadn’t left me much time! No extra weight meant I wouldn’t be able to take my computer along, not that it would be of any use anyway after taking a swim in the ocean. I tabbed back over to Sburb, sighing as I saw that Alex’s grist totals hadn’t increased. I’d tried my best, but there just wasn’t enough to build all the way up. Sorry, Alex.

I turned the computer off, pushing it into the corner with the rest of my stuff. My shoes went on top along with my jacket, neatly folded. I shivered in just my tank top and shorts, the minimum I could wear to feel decent. Neither should hamper my swimming very much. As for my glasses, I kept those with me. Those weren’t optional; I needed them if I wanted to see!

That only left the matter of my staff. Painfully aware of how ridiculous I must look, I pushed it down through the back of my clothes, hoping it would stay in place. I’d need to swim carefully to avoid whacking my arm on it, but it was necessary to keep both hands free. I was about as ready as I could ever be. Glancing back down to the phone in my hand, I felt nervous butterflies beginning to flutter in my stomach.

 **LS:** I will count down, and then remove the wall. Once the compartment has flooded, you will need to swim for the gate. The moment is imminent. Do you have any questions?  
**SA:** Of course, but none that you can answer in the time I have left, so why bother?  
**LS:** I wish you luck. Wait for my signal.  
**LS:** 3  
**LS:** 2

I sucked in a deep breath and held it, grasping the steel bar on the wall next to me to steady myself against the water that I knew would come flooding in.

 **LS:** 1

I let go of my phone, feeling it fall toward the floor as I reinforced my grip with a second hand. A moment later, frigid water rushed in, numbing me instantly. My body wanted to gasp, but I couldn’t, as I was already submerged. As soon as the pressure equalized, I pulled myself out of the hole and kicked straight out, away from the side.

I shouldn’t be able to do this, I couldn’t help thinking as I kicked, dragging myself through the water with arms I could hardly feel. I was so deep. The pressure should be killing me. It should have collapsed the aquarium too, so I wasn’t surprised. But it was still strange.

The first urge to breathe began to build inside my lungs. Squinting my eyes, I peered through the water to see if I was on target. I could see the glow ahead, and adjusted my course ever so slightly. Would I make it in time? I couldn’t tell. Distance was meaningless down here. There was only darkness and light; I moved towards the light.

Dragging myself through the water, I felt my lungs begin to burn, no longer asking but demanding their oxygen. Knowing there was only water, I kept my mouth clenched shut, taking another peek. I was almost there. I had to be. Just a few more strokes! But there was no more time left.

Even as I reached out with one final stroke, my screaming lungs forced my mouth open. I gasped, breathing in air that wasn’t there; and then, it was. I rolled over onto my side, choking up air mixed with seawater in rough heaves. Collapsing onto the wet sand, I could only lay there, unable to summon the energy to rise just yet. Somehow, despite all odds, I’d actually escaped. I didn’t know where to, but I’d made it. Now I just had to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *lesbian drama intensifies*
> 
> I don't know if gay men do the thing where they only realize they're gay once they fall in love with their best friends, but it happens to girls so much it's pretty much a truth-in-stereotype of the lesbian/bi experience. I don't know why. I never hear about it from guys, so I don't know if it's not something they experience or if they just don't talk about it.
> 
> The Medium operates on game logic. The laws of physics are more like suggestions, applied when they would enhance the simulation and ignored otherwise. They are consistent, however. If you can't breathe underwater one time, you also won't be able to breathe underwater next time.


	23. Yana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9/11/20 update

This was it, I thought to myself as I adjusted the strap on my bag. I’d second-tier prototyped my sprite for maximum defensive ability, I’d loaded up every one of my spare clips, and I’d set all the necessary maintenance codes for the mainframe to process in my absence. It was time to go see what this Land of Sand and Shimmers was all about.

I closed the airlock’s inner door and threw the manual deadbolt switch, an effort which required nearly all my strength. Behind me, I heard the outer lock clunk open. The exterior cameras were all either offline or damaged, spewing garbage images into the monitoring system, so I was running blind here. My heart raced with anticipation as, eager to see what was waiting for me on the other side, I spun the wheel and pulled the heavy door towards me. At first it barely moved, but soon the chunk of reinforced steel gained momentum, swinging open to reveal what lay outside.

A blinding glare assaulted the safety of the airlock, instantly drowning me in a sea of burning light. It was as if a hundred suns were blaring down upon my planet, reflecting off millions of tiny mirrors to stab my eyes. I shut them tight, throwing up an arm to shield them for good measure, but it was too late; afterimages swum in the darkness, the lingering sensation leaving me dazed. And then, just as I began to collect myself, I was plunged into fire.

A wall of heat roared from the open portal, as if I faced the gates of hell itself. My lungs rejected the hot air as I choked, groping blindly for the airlock, which I’d let go of when I went to protect my eyes — stupid! One of my hands closed around the wheel and I pushed, throwing my entire weight behind the effort of closing the door. Each step scraped and skittered across loose grains of sand as I heaved the door closed, sealing that inhospitable land back outside where it belonged.

I crawled away from the outer airlock, the floor still warm from when the door had been open, stopping only when I reached the inner side. Leaning back against the blissfully cool wall, I took a moment to catch my breath before opening my eyes, though the attempt proved mostly useless. The afterimage still lingered over the center of my vision, preventing me from focusing on anything.

This was insane. Greg’s land had been a perfectly acceptable, if somewhat Jurassic, adventure forest. Why did he get to have it so easy? Raising my hands to my face, I winced as I touched my skin, already hot and tender like a sunburn. The door had been open for mere seconds. If this was how I felt after even a short time exposed to the elements outside, how was I supposed to go on adventures, solve my quest, or do anything at all?

As I waited, the lingering glare faded from an obstruction to a nuisance, allowing me to see the true scale of the destruction that had been wrought. Wind must have come along with that great heat, because pale brown sand had spilled through the door and been driven everywhere. I pushed myself to my feet, approached a pile and lifted a handful to examine closer. The grains were still hot, but had cooled enough not to burn my hand as I sifted through them. Upon closer examination, what I’d originally taken for a light brown was in fact heavily varied across the individual grains, from near-white through gold and even as dark as a rich red-brown.

I let the sand fall back to the floor as I surveyed the mess my brief attempt at leaving had caused. There was sand all over the Alchemiter, including inside the slot for cards. Some had even reached nearly as far as the inner door. I knew I should probably clean this disaster up. Resetting the deadbolt — yeah, I wasn’t going out there again any time soon! — I climbed down the ladder to get the dustpan. It was a surprisingly low-tech solution, given the rest of my mom’s tastes, but it would get the job done just fine.

Returning to the airlock, I began to sweep the mess up, confining it to a lidded container in the corner. I’d figure out how to dump it later, but right now that wasn’t a priority. What I had to figure out was how to survive out there, and then I could worry about — hey, what’s that? I frowned, bending down to pick up the creased papers my broom had rumpled. I’d never seen them before in my life, so they must have come in from outside along with the sand. Setting the cleaning supplies aside, I smoothed the pages out on the flat surface of the Alchemiter.

All together there were three pages, covered front and back with sketches, diagrams and text. I’d seen this handwriting before. The sheet Tomas’s girlfriend had found in her apartment had made the rounds over text, and I could swear the same person had written this. But I thought she’d said that note was from her dad, and I knew for a fact he hadn’t been here. Nobody ever came up here, to this remote part of the Canadian wilderness; that was the entire point!

I started with the page holding the biggest diagram, which seemed to be a map of some kind of solar system. The center was labeled “Skaia,” with a satellite labeled “Prospit (moon)” orbiting close. Maybe it wasn’t a solar system after all? Shrugging the uncertainty off, I continued to examine the picture. There was another moon marked at the far edge, this one labeled “Derse (moon).” Just inside its orbit was some kind of ring of debris — an asteroid belt? — labeled “The Veil.” Between the Veil and Skaia lay six labeled planets, orbiting equidistant from Skaia and each other.

As I read the labels, my breath quickened. The words were unfamiliar, but the pattern was clear. I didn’t see my own Land of Sand and Shimmers on the diagram, but maybe these were only placeholder names to illustrate the concept. That made sense.

I flipped the page over, skimming the text on the other side. None of it seemed immediately useful, just details of lands unfamiliar to me. A sketch near the bottom of a triangular fractal labeled a “Portal Pad” was interesting, but not as much as that first map had been. Moving on to the second page, I found more detailed sketch of the two moons — Prospit on front, and Derse on back — depicting a central body with a small satellite attached by some kind of chain-linked tether. Curious.

The final page was a diagram of vertically-stacked circles labeled as Gates, five in all. As I read the words explaining their purpose, everything I’d read on the pages before clicked into place in my mind, and I realized how incredible a find this truly was. It was a guide to forms of travel through the Medium, complete with diagrams and maps. I had to tell everyone about this, right away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter. The next one is overly long, and will make up for it.
> 
> Yana's rifle does actually use a clip to reload, as opposed to a magazine. I checked. I may not be a gun person, but I know the difference between those two things and I know how to use google when I'm writing about antiquated firearms.
> 
> Don't you hate summer? I hate summer. The sun burns us, precious. We play video games to get away from that sort of thing.
> 
> Music for LOSAS(Land of Sand and Shimmers): [Dunes of Death - Assassin's Creed OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yf_JnfxgzM)


	24. Miyong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9/18/20 update

I opened my eyes, bitter air passing through my cracked, parched lips. This wasn’t my bed. Where was I? I lifted my head, pressing my hands against the hard, unforgiving surface to lever myself up. The blanket from my bed slid down over my shoulders as I rose to sit, looking out over a rust-tinted landscape of cliffs and canyons. The sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the rooftop — ah, the roof! I’d come up here to play that game.

Memories came rushing back as I clutched the blanket around my pajama-clad form, shivering even in the warm air. I was so weak. How long had I been asleep for? Looking around, I saw some of my belongings scattered haphazardly nearby, amid a collection of colored balls. Spotting the pink of my phone case, I crawled toward it, letting the blanket trail behind me.

I clasped my hand around the phone, my gaze moving past it to my water bottle, the one I kept by my bed at night. I reached for it and uncapped it, forcing little sips so I wouldn’t make myself sick. Waking up my phone, I frowned at the battery indicator. There was only 18% remaining. Judging from that alone, I knew I had to have been asleep for a while: a full day, at least.

Chat messages had piled up in my absence. I scrolled through a couple dozen from Greg, wrapping the blanket in a close hug around my shoulders as I pieced together the situation from his perspective. He’d brought all this stuff up here trying to wake me up, and then he’d had to go. He hadn’t messaged me again since then. There was another conversation though, where the rest of the team had spoken as I’d slept.

 **CriticalGuru:** Alright, let’s get this show on the road.  
**CG:** I don’t think I’m missing anyone, but to be sure let’s sound off in order.  
**CG:** I’ll start.  
**CG:** Hey everyone, I’m Yana Burkova.  
**CG:** Greg you’re next.  
**CaptainWalker:** Oh we’re doing play order?  
**CG:** Yep!  
**CW:** I’m Gregory Walker, call me Greg  
**CW:** Uh, NascentKinesia is supposed to go next  
**CW:** That’s Miyong Pak  
**CW:** She’s from Japan  
**CG:** Did I not add her to the chat?  
**CW:** No you did…  
**CW:** There’s something wrong, she’s been sleeping and won’t wake up  
**ArtemisArcher:** Is she okay?  
**CW:** Apparently not?  
**AA:** Well what happened?  
**CW:** I don’t know  
**CW:** She just passed out  
**CW:** I don’t know what to do  
**CG:** There might be something we can try, so hold that thought.  
**CG:** For now, let’s keep going.  
**CG:** Who’s her client player?  
**PrincessAmor:** I guess me?  
**PA:** Idk what happened she just stopped talking  
**AA:** Introduce yourself Ali.  
**PA:** Oh right  
**PA:** I’m Alice Robertson  
**PA:** Tomato gf  
**PA:** Omg  
**CW:** Tomato? What the hell?  
**AA:** Don’t worry about it, it’s her autocorrect acting up.  
**AA:** Hi, I’m Bridget Glenn. It’s nice to meet all of you. I only know Ali, but the rest of you seem like nice people and I can’t wait to get to know you better.  
**CG:** Same!  
**CG:** Tomas is next right?  
**AA:** Yeah, isn’t he here?  
**CG:** I added him for sure.  
**CG:** Tomas you there?  
**CulinaryArtisan:** Yeah  
**CA:** Sorry  
**CA:** Hi  
**PA:** U never called me back  
**CA:** Sorry  
**PA:** Uh u there?  
**CG:** …?  
**CG:** Tomas?  
**CG:** Well, that’s Tomas Munoz, and apparently he can’t talk right now?  
**CG:** So, never mind, and I guess that’s everybody.  
**CG:** Welcome to the Medium!  
**CG:** I hope your planets aren’t too terrible.

Planets? I looked up from the phone, my eyes sweeping across the landscape that surrounded me. Had I been transported to an alien planet? The way she’d said it made it sound as if I was alone here, with the others on their own planets. I didn’t know if that was comforting or terrifying. Maybe a little of both.

 **AA:** I’ve found mine to be pleasant enough, though slightly uncanny at times.  
**CG:** What do you mean?  
**AA:** Well, it’s close enough to home that I keep forgetting where I am. Then something makes me remember, and it’s like a kick to the face.  
**CG:** What is it?  
**CG:** I’ve got the Land of Sand and Shimmers.  
**AA:** Angels and Melancholy. I haven’t found anything sad yet, but I admit I do find the name somewhat ominous.  
**CW:** Mine’s Ferns and Redwoods  
**PA:** Wind and towers  
**CG:** What about you, Tomas?  
**CG:** Paging Munoz, anyone home?  
**CG:** I guess he doesn’t know.  
**CG:** Oh hey Bridget, just curious, but since you’re his server player, did you see what’s outside his house?  
**AA:** Sort of. Everything is covered in heavy fog, so I couldn’t tell you what’s actually out there.  
**CG:** I could use some fog around here.  
**CG:** This whole place is a desert, and hellishly bright.  
**CG:** I don’t think I can explore outside at all until it gets dark.  
**CG:** These planets do have a night, right?  
**AA:** Yes, they do. At least mine does.  
**PA:** Same here  
**CW:** I don’t know, I’ve been busy  
**CG:** Right, busy busy so your drill sergeant sprite won’t make you drop and give him twenty!  
**CW:** Ha ha very funny  
**CW:** Actually I’ll have you know I’m way beyond him  
**CW:** I’m taking orders straight from my denizen now  
**CW:** She’s like the boss of my planet, and all of you have one too, but you probably haven’t met it yet  
**CW:** That’s usually a late game thing, but I got there early  
**CG:** Ugh Greg, no fair skipping ahead when I can’t even go outside yet!  
**AA:** Is it wise to skip ahead? I was under the impression that following the story of our quests was important to completing this game.  
**CW:** Well, she didn’t seem to think I’d done anything wrong, so I don’t think it’s a big deal  
**CA:** af  
**CG:** Tomas you ok?  
**CG:** You’re not answering and it’s making me worried…?  
**CG:** Well whatever, I think you’re fine, Greg.  
**CG:** This game’s supposed to be pretty flexible.  
**CG:** The teaser material was all about tailoring the experience to your individual personality and actions, remember?  
**CG:** Guess you’re getting the Impatient Asshole quest path!  
**CW:** Very funny  
**AA:** I did notice that, speaking as someone who knew nothing of this game until just two days ago. There seems to be an entire mythology constructed around my planet, which isn’t strange in itself, but it seems to know things about me that no game should be able to know.  
**PA:** Ya I noticed that too  
**PA:** I kinda like it  
**AA:** I find it unsettling. Why would this game offer me the role of Sylph of Hope, rather than Hostler of Equines or Drawer of Bows, both of which make far more sense given the information I’ve demonstrated about myself? It knows things that it has no business knowing, and I don’t think I like it.  
**PA:** Everyone gets a class b  
**PA:** I dunno mine yet but I’ll find out  
**PA:** Maybe when my bard saves me <3  
**CG:** I didn’t know we had classes.  
**CG:** Sylph of Hope sounds way cool, like some kind of fairy.  
**AA:** I wouldn’t exactly describe the fae as “way cool.”  
**CG:** Hey Greg?  
**CW:** Yeah?  
**CG:** Since you’re so far ahead of us mere mortals, what’s your fancy hero name?  
**CW:** I’m the Agent of Blood  
**CG:** That’s so fucking cool, I love it!  
**PA:** Ew  
**AA:** I imagine it’s not literal, Ali.  
**PA:** Still ew  
**CW:** Well you don’t have to like it!  
**CW:** I thought it sounded badass…  
**CG:** It does, like you’re James Bond or something!  
**CG:** Sylph, Agent, Bard…I wonder what I am?

My mind wandered back to a half-remembered conversation with my sprite, as I’d picked myself up off the roof that first time. She’d called me something that hadn’t meant anything to me back then. What had it been? I closed my eyes, imagining that gentle, yet determined, voice in my mind. Thief. She’d called me Thief. But what was I a Thief of? Opening my eyes, I kept reading.

 **CG:** Anyway, the main thing we have to talk about is this!  
**CG:** Alice, I heard from a game of telephone that you found this note we’ve been texting around, about how to do the prototypings.  
**PA:** Ya  
**PA:** What about it?  
**CG:** I found one just like it, same handwriting and everything.  
**PA:** Uh that’s not possible  
**PA:** My father left that for me  
**PA:** He’s always doing stuff like that ok?  
**PA:** Always controlling my life  
**AA:** Ali I told you, your dad did not leave you that note. It’s not even his handwriting. I’m assuming Yana lives nowhere near you, so how could he leave notes for both of you? More to the point, why would he leave her a note?  
**CG:** I don’t live near anyone, so that’s a safe assumption!  
**CG:** But I also don’t think it came from your dad, since I only found it after I opened the airlock to go outside.  
**CG:** I think it was in the Medium when I got here, and yours probably was too.  
**PA:** U have an airlock?  
**CG:** Yes, I have an airlock.  
**CG:** But that’s not what’s important about what I just said.  
**CW:** You think the note is from the game or something?  
**CG:** Yes!  
**CG:** It’s a pretty lazy method of tutorial, but I know I’d rather have pop-ups than be left fumbling through the dark.  
**CG:** And I think the tutorial just gave us the solution to your problem, Greg.  
**CW:** Wait what do you know about my problem?  
**CG:** Well I know a whole lot about the problem of you having sponge for brains, because we just talked about this!  
**CG:** You’re worried about Miyong, right?  
**CW:** Oh yeah, that  
**CW:** Definitely  
**CG:** So, using these instructions, we should be able to send someone there to go check up on her.  
**CW:** Oh hell yeah, how do I do that?

My breath caught, the sharp inhalation stabbing into my lungs. Wracked with coughs, I bent over until the fit passed, taking slow, shallow breaths as I recovered. I had nothing to worry about. This conversation was timestamped hours ago, and nobody was here. That meant nobody had been snooping around while I was sleeping, at least I hoped not. I was still safe.

 **CG:** Well that’s the thing, YOU can’t.  
**CG:** At least, not yet.  
**CG:** I’m sending over the pictures so everybody can take a look, but the key is those gates floating up above our houses.  
**CG:** If your server player builds your house up to them using the game’s tools, you can pass through them, and each one takes you to a different person in the team.  
**CG:** The first one above your house is your server player, then their server player, and so on.  
**CW:** What the hell  
**CW:** I went outside, and I’m looking at it right now, and I can’t even see a fifth gate at my house  
**CG:** Right, which is why you can’t be the one to go.  
**CG:** I’m sorry Greg, it’s just too far.  
**CG:** Alice, as her client player you’re the one who needs to go.  
**PA:** Uh no  
**PA:** That’s not what I’m supposed to do  
**PA:** I have this whole story here  
**PA:** I can’t leave  
**CG:** But you’re the only one who can go!  
**PA:** Uh how would I even?  
**PA:** She can’t build if she’s asleep  
**PA:** U want me to grow wings?  
**CW:** That’s a good point…  
**AA:** There should be a ladder in the maintenance closet, Ali.  
**PA:** Uh uh no way  
**AA:** Private chat, Ali. Now, please.  
**PA:** Ugh

There was a long gap in the conversation here, before Artemis — Bridget, I reminded myself, fixing the foreign name in my mind — spoke again.

 **AA:** That’s settled, then. One way or another, someone is going through Ali’s gate to check on Miyong. Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure it happens.  
**CG:** Thanks, Bridget!  
**CW:** It should be me…  
**CG:** Yeah well you can’t always be the hero. There’s always next time.

I stopped reading, dread building in my chest and making my fingers tremble so hard I was afraid I might drop the phone. Someone was on their way, but they hadn’t arrived yet. Had they? I didn’t think so, but I had to be sure. I opened up a new conversation, this one with Bridget. I had to convince her not to send anyone, that I was fine. It was time to put on my liar’s mask.

 **NascentKinesia:** are you there?  
**ArtemisArcher:** Hello, is this Miyong?  
**NK:** yes.  
**AA:** My name is Bridget.  
**NK:** i know, i read the log. well, most of it.  
**AA:** Ah, that’s good. We were about to come check on you. Greg says you collapsed?  
**NK:** yeah i did but i’m fine. really.  
**AA:** Are you sure? You do realize you were asleep for two straight days.  
**NK:** i was really tired. that’s all.

I winced as the text popped up on my screen; the excuse sounded lame, even to me. Yeah, I was so tired, I slept two entire days by accident. Silly me!

 **AA:** Okay, well, I can’t say I’m upset to hear that. It was going to be a logistical nightmare to get Alice through that gate without help from your side.  
**NK:** well you don’t have to worry about it now.  
**AA:** Right. Can you do something for me, though? I’d like it if you could use the server client to build a path to the gate, just in case anything like this happens again.

Frowning, I tapped at the keyboard, deleting all the characters before I had the chance to commit to any of them. I didn’t like the idea, but Bridget had asked so nicely. She wouldn’t be this nice to me if she knew what I’d done. Still, I couldn’t think of any excuse I could use to keep them away. I’d just have to hide anything that would give me away.

 **NK:** i can do that.  
**AA:** Thank you, Miyong.

All too conscious of the rapidly-dwindling battery, I shut my phone off. I had to get back downstairs. Once I was back in the apartment I could eat something, shower, and take my medicine. Just getting there would be hard, though. Clutching the blanket around my shoulders, I rose on wobbling legs. My hands shook as I pulled the door open and stepped into the dark stairwell.

I stopped to rest more times than I could count as I made my way downstairs. But even in my weakened state, it was so much easier to go down than it had been to come up. Still, I didn’t want to return to the roof any time soon. I would have to do something about the stuff that had been taken up there, but that was a problem for another time.

The apartment was as I’d left it, with only a few toppled decorations betraying the violence of the events which had ripped the building from one world and thrust it into another. I didn’t even look at the stove as I moved straight to the refrigerator, the soup cold against my throat as I drank it straight from the plastic takeout jar. As I chewed on a piece of mushroom, I felt some strength beginning to return. I forced myself to put the container aside before I finished it all, replacing the lid so I wouldn’t be tempted. If I ate too much too quickly I’d only make myself sick.

After plugging in my phone and consulting my chart — too many missed pills! — I took everything incriminating and hid it in a box at the bottom of my closet. Nobody should be snooping around behind two closed doors, and if they were I would have every right to be angry. Privacy is important. As is a good bath.

I took my time with the ritual, dropping in a bath bomb and letting the scent of the bubbles wash over me. The hot water felt good on my aching legs, and I took the opportunity to give my hair a thorough scrubbing, removing a disgusting layer of grime. Upon examining the situation at the sink, I also discovered two days’ worth of blemishes under the makeup I’d never washed off. Grimacing, I traced the shadows around my eyes, the dark circles providing a stark contrast above my too-pale cheeks. I didn’t look great, but it could have been worse.

Exiting the bathroom in a cloud of lingering strawberry scent, I startled at the sight of a girl standing in the hallway, her back to me. I jump back, my eyes widening with surprise — and pain — as my shoulders slammed against the wall. Gritting my teeth, I watched her turn and remembered where I’d seen her before. I had been up on the rooftop. This was Sailor Saturn, the ghost in my game.

She watched me with a somber expression, glaive held tight against her side. I felt as if I was being judged, compared against some unknown measure, as her gaze passed over me from head to toe. Despite the full bathrobe I wore, covering everything important and then some, I felt naked under her examination. After a moment, she nodded once; apparently, whatever she’d been testing me for, I’d passed.

“We must speak, Thief.” Her echoing voice had an otherworldly quality, as if the way her feet floated just above the floor and her slight transparency weren’t enough clues that she wasn’t at all human. “Dress yourself. I await you at the valley.”  
“Wait,” I said, as she turned away. She paused, glancing back over her shoulder. “What valley?”  
“Downstairs,” she said simply, before floating down through the floor.

That made sense. I remembered the landscape I’d seen from the roof, how my apartment building had been embedded into the side of a cliff. You could have stepped off the roof onto the top of the cliff, so the floor of the valley must be conveniently accessible from the lobby.

I dressed myself simply, choosing practical pants rather than a cute skirt. I wasn’t here to show off to anyone. Makeup wasn’t an option right now given the state of my skin, so I finished the fashion disaster with an oversized sweatshirt, pulling the hood up to shadow my face. That would have to do.

I brought the rest of the soup — warmed up, this time — with me down to the lobby. Fake plastic plants and cheap chairs filled the lobby, lining a path from the stairs to the double doors. I pushed them open with my shoulder, stepping out into the warm, dry air.

A light coating of dust danced along the ground, coating the bottom of my pants with a rusty powder. I slurped a noodle, biting it in half before the end could flick broth up onto my face. Not seeing any sign of Sailor Saturn anywhere, I sat down on a nearby rock, cradling the plastic container in my lap. I ate in quiet for a few minutes before she arrived, floating up out of the ground as she watched me once again with that unwavering gaze.

“You said we need to talk?” I said, my voice weak against the deserted expanse around us.

“Indeed.” She inclined her head. “We have much to discuss—”

“But little time?” I interrupted, attempting a joke, but rather than smile she tilted her head, regarding me with an inscrutable expression.

“Perhaps,” she said, after a too-long pause. “That misconception may feel like truth, at this moment. Soon you will realize, Thief, that there is all the time in the universe.”

“You keep calling me a Thief,” I said, picking out the only part of her words that made any sense at all. “Is that my class?”

She gave a single, silent nod, the blunted tips of her hair swinging forward to brush her chin.

“And this place,” I gestured with a chopstick, indicating the canyon around us. “All of this, is the land of what?”

“Clockwork and Battlefields,” she said, pronouncing the words with a weighty purpose.

“Really? I don’t—” I glanced around, failing to keep the skepticism from my face. Nothing here looked like either of those things. All I could see, all I could remember seeing even from higher ground, was rocky ground and high cliffs. Unless that was the point. “Am I supposed to build it, or something?”

“No,” she shook her head, hair swinging again as she moved to kneel before me, hovering so we spoke eye to eye. “Listen well, for I shall not repeat myself. Far across this land, the fearsome clockwork armies of the lord denizen, Chronos, march. The consorts tremble in fear, their fertile farmlands turned to killing fields under the churning battles. It is your destiny to journey forth, to bring this desecration to its conclusion, and to petition the great wyrm himself to cease this endless war.”

I couldn’t help it; I laughed, a bitter sound that faded into a cough.

“I’m sorry, I’ve made a mistake. I can’t do all that. I can barely even keep going as it is, without going on a journey, let alone fighting in wars or arguing with denizens. Look at me.” I set the soup aside, standing and spreading my arms to force her to see. “It would kill me, you know it would!”

She stared at me for a moment that seemed to stretch into an eternity, before adjusting her own position to stand.

“It may well be that a sacrifice is needed. Nay, demanded!” Her tone turned sharp as she brandished her glaive, fierce emotion burning in her eyes. “You know as well as I that rebirth cannot take place until what once was has been destroyed!”

“So what, am I supposed to start walking?” My breath came harsh and heavy, matching her sudden display of emotion with my own surge of anger. “Will collapsing on the road solve anything, or do I have to bleed? Let me go get my swords, I can make your sacrifice right now and save us all the trouble!”

“You forget your place, Thief. Sit down.”

I sat, less out of any desire to obey her orders and more because of the sudden lightness that filled my head. In my anger, I’d pushed too far. I forced myself to slow my breathing, in and out, clutching the edges of the rock to keep myself upright.

“Every journey begins with a first step,” she explained, lowering the glaive as she spoke to me, her voice calm once more. “Go, when you are able, to the Source of Potential. It is not far. Take up the arms within, and you will see. You are, will be, and always have been more able than you know. Attend, if you would.”

I watched as she used the tip of her glaive to trace a map on the floor of the valley. The lines glowed a deep purple, persisting even after she finished drawing. She was right, if the map was to be trusted. It wasn’t far at all. Even I could do this, as long as I took it slow. And then I could see for myself if what she said was true.

* * *

The cave’s deep mouth loomed before me. Assuming I’d followed the map correctly, this should be the Source of Potential. I peered into the darkness inside, feeling suddenly uneasy. Anything could be lurking in there, just waiting for me to wander blindly into its lair. I’d passed monsters on my way here, centaur-like amalgamations that shouldn’t exist. Thankfully they’d paid me no mind, continuing on their way as I passed by, but I couldn’t assume I would remain safe simply because I had been so far.

My pair of short swords were tucked through my belt, but I wasn’t fooling myself; the knowledge, not to mention the strength, to use them was beyond me. I hoped I wouldn’t have to, though in the back of my mind I knew that was naive. Of course I would have to fight. That was what I was here for. Before I could talk myself out of it, I activated my phone’s flashlight app, holding the light before me to illuminate the path ahead.

As I entered the cave, I was struck by a sudden stillness. The faint sound of wind, the lingering scent of scorched metal, and other sensations I hadn’t even consciously noticed were suddenly gone. I was acutely aware of my own breathing, the rustle of my clothes, and each echoing step I took upon the rocky ground. There was something else, too. I could hear it in the distance: a steady ticking coming from further down the passage.

The sound grew ever louder as I continued, navigating an uneven tunnel that sloped steadily downward, curving loosely enough not to be claustrophobic while still obstructing my view of what lay ahead. After some time, I noticed a golden glow spilling around the corner ahead. Whatever was at the end of all this, I felt sure it lay just ahead.

Shifting the phone to my left hand, I drew one of my swords, clutching it tight in my fist. I might not know how to use it, but walking into the unknown bare handed was just foolish. Even unskilled swipes and stabs would be better than nothing at all. I crept around the corner, dimly aware that my footsteps were now locked in sync with each tick.

The passage opened up into a room lit with a warm, ambient glow. A smooth floor gradually sloped down from the walls to the center where an intricate mechanism stretched all the way to the ceiling, bronze wheels and cogs spinning as it ticked away. I put my phone away, edging my way around the room to examine it from all sides before I approached. The only indication of a front was a plaque caved with words, mounted facing the only entrance to the chamber.

I approached, ready to flee if anything seemed wrong. But nothing jumped out at me, exploded, or made so much as a creak above the incessant ticking. It was a truly beautiful marvel of clockwork engineering, whatever it was. I brushed my fingers over the plaque, my breath catching in my throat as I traced the lines and circles of the carved script.

“Tools of legend, safely stowed  
to you we give, to play their part.  
Blades of Eternity, power bestowed  
to steal Time, and stop its heart.”

Emotion welled within me, tears springing unbidden to my eyes. This was Hangul — Korean! These words had been written just for me. But if this game somehow knew enough about me to speak to me in my family’s own private language, the one I didn’t even have installed on my computer, surely it had to know that I was broken. That I was only here to fail, and let everyone else down because I’d been a foolish girl who’d acted on an irresponsible impulse. Why was it continuing to act like everything was okay, when it wasn’t?

Resting my hand against the plaque, I felt it shift under the light pressure. It wasn’t part of the machine after all, I realized. If I wiggled it just right I could see a gap between it and the recessed spot it sat in, but it wasn’t wide enough to get any purchase. Glancing down to the weapon I still held in my other hand, an idea struck me. I moved the plaque down, inserting the tip of the blade into the crack, and twisted. There, it was moving! Not much, but just enough.

I pressed the tips of my fingers against the edge of the plaque as I levered it out, working the blade further behind it. It was surprisingly heavy, apparently made of solid metal, and once it finally came free I nearly dropped it onto my foot. After a quick wince at the clatter, my clumsiness was immediately forgotten as I looked into the hidden compartment.

Twin swords lay within, cushioned on a bed of cherry red velvet. They were slender and a bit shorter than the ones I wielded now, with rounded handles topping a blade that curved ever so slightly to a piercing point. The handle and blade were black as obsidian at first glance, but when I picked one up and turned it under the light I saw swirls of deep green, blue and violet manifest inside the blade, as if I looked into a smoke-filled crystal ball. They were a beautiful, and very deadly, set of weapons. I put my own blade away and picked them both up, marveling at how light and natural they felt in my hands.

As I held them, the sound of the clockwork before me seemed to intensify, until it thrummed through my very being. My attention was drawn towards the mechanisms that ticked and spun, the intricate core of a machine unknown. The steady ticking was like the beat of a mechanical heart, slow, steady, and marching ever onward through time.

The verse had said something about the heart of time, hadn’t it? I was supposed to stop its heart. I tilted my head, looking from the blades in my hands to the machine before me. How was I meant to do this? I hesitated to thrust the blades into the spinning cogs, for fear that I might break them. They looked so fragile, but they were sharp. Sharp for penetrating, like a serpent’s fangs.

I raised my left hand above my shoulder, blade gripped tight in my fist, and brought it forward with all my strength. It crashed into the metal plating of the machine, buckling the smooth surface in front of me. I felt a brief resistance, then it gave beneath my hand as the sword punctured through, hilt warming beneath my hand. Wasting no time, I thrust the other blade into the side of the machine, another clean cut straight through into the center.

A force like electricity surged through me. Caught in its grip, I couldn’t have let go of the swords even if I’d wanted to. I stopped breathing, the very air arrested in my chest by the coursing power. Time seemed to slow, then stop, as a potent tingling sensation filled every inch of my body.

Then it was over, and I was falling. I landed in a heap on the floor, both swords clattering down next to me. I gasped air back into my starved lungs, then realized the harsh sound of my own breathing was the only noise that reached my ears. The ticking was gone, the mechanism frozen in place. I’d done it. I’d stopped the heart.

As I climbed back to my feet, I marveled at how easy it was. I felt good, stronger than I had in years. The sickness was still within me, I could feel it, but it had been pushed back. No medicine had been able to do this; I should know, I’d tried them all. I’d never considered that this could even be possible. I retrieved my new weapons from where they’d fallen, filled with a newfound hope. No, not hope. Potential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how sometimes you write a chapter and it's too long, so you edit it, and it gets significantly longer? Then you try to edit it again, and even though you cut a lot you still manage to add about 150 more words by the time you're done? And then you decide to just stop messing with it for the love of sanity? Yeah, that's this chapter. Sorry.
> 
> The long chat logs like this one are the places where I really miss my offline rainbow text formatting. Unfortunately, AO3 doesn't seem to support this by default, and the homestuck theme's colors don't match the ones I used when drafting. *picky author grumbles* So, sadly, only I get to see the pretty rainbow chats.
> 
> I forget if I addressed this in an earlier note(it's been a HELL of a summer), but the way gates operate are slightly different from canon. Rather than taking you directly to your adventure locations(first on your planet, then on your server player's, and so on), they just take you to the other players' home gates. I thought it was more interesting to normally be able to, you know, just walk outside like Jane does. It's no big deal. Unless your name is Kayla or Yana, that is.
> 
> Music for the Land of Clockwork and Battlefields(LOCAB), and also our Thief of Time in general: [Crystal Clocks - Spectral Spectacle](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=smSQ6ncncOo)


	25. Yana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9/25/20 update

I grimaced, peering up through the shaft where, high overhead, part of a deep blue gate was visible against the dark sky, clipping through the walls as it spun. This situation was completely fucky, but I’d already wasted an entire day; I didn’t think it would be wise to wait any longer.

It had all started with a conversation with Alice’s friend, Bridget. Shortly after our conference chat had ended, she’d messaged me privately, sharing her concerns. Tomas wasn’t okay. His incoherent responses in the chat had worried me, but I’d pushed the idea away, not wanting to believe it was true. But after what she’d told me, I realized I had to do something. After all, I was the only one who could.

 **ArtemisArcher:** He’s been in bed every time I’ve checked. I don’t know if he’s been eating.  
**CriticalGuru:** What about during the chat?  
**CG:** He seemed drunk or something, but I dunno, that’s not like him.  
**AA:** He was under the covers the whole time, so I have no idea. It’s possible. There’s quite a lot of liquor in that house.  
**CG:** Well yeah but it’s not his, it’s A’s.  
**AA:** A is his brother, right? Is it possible this is because he got left behind?  
**CG:** they got left behind*  
**AA:** Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize.  
**CG:** That’s ok, it’s confusing.  
**CG:** I think it’s “brother” too, there’s supposed to be fake quotes or something.  
**CG:** But ugh, I’m really worried now!  
**CG:** I need to go check on him.  
**AA:** I think that would be wise. I’d go myself, except that’s not feasible for obvious reasons.  
**CG:** Right.  
**AA:** You’ll need to build up towards the gate on both sides, correct? I can try to assemble some scaffolding on my end, though grist is in short supply.  
**CG:** I guess I have to try to get him to build up to my gate, as well.  
**AA:** Good luck.  
**CG:** Thanks.  
**CG:** If it’s as bad as you say, I’ll need it.

I’d then wasted an entire precious day, twiddling my thumbs until nightfall when the temperature dropped and I could go outside to hunt for grist. My rifle’s crack blasted across the endless dunes, each shot finding its mark in another mob. The human elements of the creatures were unnerving, though logically I didn’t understand why. How was it any different from shooting wasteland raiders, or duking it out in battle royale with character skins that looked like people? Maybe it was the fact that I took the shot with my own two hands, rather than aiming through a controller, that made the act so disturbing.

At least they didn’t bleed. Every time they burst apart in a shower of colored grist orbs, I was able to remind myself that they weren’t really a cat-girl uni-centaur. They were only game constructs. That meant they were totally fake, and therefore okay to shoot as much as I liked.

Convincing Tomas to use the grist I’d collected proved to be infuriating. First, he was asleep — or at least, unresponsive — when I returned to the bunker. He didn’t wake up until the sun had already risen on my planet, so that was a second whole day wasted. That is, unless I wanted to crawl up an oven tube, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was gonna try that. The tube itself was okay, a simple extension of one of the ladder shafts. I couldn’t believe it had been so hard to convince him to do something that wound up taking literally two seconds.

But he’d done it — eventually — and then I’d waited through yet another long day. And finally here I was, climbing up a ladder towards a gate that I hoped would still work, despite the clip glitching. If it turned out he was just being shitty for no reason, I was gonna be seriously pissed. I didn’t think that was likely though, and that’s what had me scared.

Despite my worries, the gate grabbed me instantly as I touched it, and I was falling through to the other side before I knew what was happening. I landed on something which buckled under the impact, but ultimately held, even as it swayed dangerously. I rolled to the side, hurriedly picking my way down the side of the scaffolding until my feet rested on the sloped — but solid — shingles of the roof. Dropping to all fours for stability, I took a moment to look around.

It was either dusk or dawn on this planet; I couldn’t tell which. Skaia skimmed the very edge of the misty horizon, illuminating nothing of the land below save for a few dark branches that punched through the fog. The slanted roof was slick from the mist, so I hazarded a guess that this must be morning. Well, there was no point in wasting time. I had to get down to the edge of the roof so I could climb down safely.

As I started to shuffle across the roof, I immediately realized that Assassin’s Creed had lied to me. This was really, really hard. Forget running full-tilt across rooftops; it was all I could do not to slip all the way down! I stayed as low as possible, catching myself with the friction of my body whenever I started to slide. Consequently, my entire left side was damp by the time I’d managed to move just a few feet.

My fatal misstep came soon after. I’d thought my foot was secure, but as soon as I’d committed my weight I began to slide. I flopped down against the roof, but it was too late; I was already going far too fast. I rolled as I picked up even more speed, tumbling out of control toward the edge. Then, knocking my shoulder on the gutter as I went over, I was falling!

“Hey!” A light-voiced cowboy accent followed me as I fell, making a brief pit stop on the metal roof of a carport before landing unceremoniously in a prickly shrub. “Someone just fell off the roof!”

Who’d said that? I knew Tomas’s voice, and it hadn’t sounded like him. I tried to sit up, but my hair was tangled in the branches and across my face. Grabbing handfuls of it, I pulled it aside so I could see again, only to find myself looking up at a red-tinged sprite. Prince — yes, that Prince — floated above me in full Purple Rain regalia, seemingly unaware of the flames licking up his body. He looked down at me, shaking his head slowly with an expression of utter contempt.

As he turned and drifted away through the side of the house, I flipped him the double bird. What a jackass. Also inexplicably Texan, which was hells of weird. Now that my judgmental audience had left, I finished de-tangling myself from the bush, rubbing my abused shoulder as I stood up. That was going to leave a sick bruise, but nothing seemed to be broken, so that was alright.

When I let myself in the front door — really Tomas, unlocked with all these imps about? — I was pleasantly surprised by a relatively neat house. Clutter was mostly confined to individual surfaces and boxes, and the place seemed well-kept for the most part. At least they appeared to own a vacuum, which was more than I’d expected from this particular bachelor pad.

Bedrooms were usually upstairs in a house, right? Hoping that was true and not something I’d invented just now, I made my way up, each step landing softly against the wooden stairs. Upstairs was dark, a hallway with three doors: one closed, and two ajar. The first open door was a bathroom, so I closed it. The second opened into a bedroom with a large window, as well as all of the mess that had been missing from the rest of the house. Nobody was in here and it smelled unpleasantly like stale smoke, so I closed that one too.

That only left one possibility. I moved over to the last door, rapping on it gently with my knuckles. The hollow wood made a pleasant sound, nothing like banging on the doors back home. No response came from inside, so I knocked harder, calling through the door.

“Tomas? It’s Yana. You in there?”

I heard a muffled sound from inside, like someone was trying to talk with their face bundled up.

“Hey look,” I continued. “I’m going to count to ten, and then I’m coming in. So put pants on, or whatever you need to do.”

I counted to myself, marking each number with a tap of my finger against the door frame. Around four, there was a thump from inside the room, but no other protests. As I reached the end of my count, I grasped the knob. “Okay, I’m coming in.”

I opened the door, revealing a smaller bedroom just as messy as the other, though in a vastly different way. A project had been started and abandoned on the easel set up in the corner, with crusty brushes and spilled paint littering the floor. On the other side of the room, a blanket-draped form had fallen out of the bed, a trail of twisted sheets trapping them like a fly in a spider’s web.

I knelt down beside the form, which tried to wiggle away from me, without much luck. Reaching into the blanket, I pulled it apart until I saw Tomas’s face. He grimaced, trying to hide back under the blanket, but I tugged it away before he could. It looked as if he hadn’t slept — or had a shower, judging from the smell — since we’d entered the medium. It was apparent from his breath that he’d definitely been drinking, as weird as that was.

“It’s time to get up,” I said. I didn’t really have a lot of experience with people, so I was making most of this up as I went along. “Also, what’s with the flaming Prince?”

“The what?” he said, his voice cracking from disuse as he squinted up at me.

“Ghosty rock star, fire for hair, floating all around your house. Don’t tell me you were too drunk to notice.”

“I’m not drunk,” he mumbled, trying to sit up, but the blanket was still wrapped around him too tightly.

“Yeah you are,” I said, my flat tone leaving no room for argument.

“Well, you have plants in your hair.”

What did that have to do with anything? I reached up, pulling a piece of the shrub I’d fallen into out of my hair. With a shrug, I tossed it aside onto the floor. “Happens. Now come on, it’s time to get up.”

“Don’t want to,” he said, his voice barely above a mumble as he curled up away from me, drawing the blanket tighter around himself. “No point, not with A gone.”

“What do you mean, no point? Tomas, do you really think they’d want you to just lie in bed forever? Because that’s not what they said to me, and you know it. You think it’s easy for me, with Mom gone?”

“Looks easy,” he said. I bit my lip, his words a spear to my heart. Even though I hadn’t made a sound, he seemed to sense that something was wrong, rolling over with an expression of utter dismay on his face. “I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.”

“Maybe it looks easy,” I said, shrugging as I studied my hands on the floor. My voice wavered as I spoke, all bravado lost. “I knew it was coming. She always talked about the fight, how she’d have to leave one day to protect me and the future. I didn’t believe it, not until everything came apart. Then I realized she hadn’t just been paranoid. Somehow, she’d known things. And the way A was talking, I think they’d known too.”

As I spoke, Tomas’s hand sought out my own, his well-tanned skin wrapping around my pale fingers. I gave a gentle squeeze back, drawing strength from the gesture, before continuing.

“I guess what I mean to say is, of course I miss her. But I know I’m supposed to keep going, because it’s what she’d want me to do. And it’s what A wanted for you, too. Didn’t they ever talk about it?”

“No.” He’d managed to untangle himself from the blanket enough to sit up, leaning back against the wall. His voice was working a little better now, but every word was steeped in a deep pain. “We talked about the future, like there was a future. I don’t understand why, if they knew—”

His voice cracked on the last word, the sentence collapsing as his face crumpled into tears. I instinctively reached out, catching him in my arms as he started to cry. I stroked his hair as the dampness soaked through the shoulder of my hoodie, and patted his back in what I really hoped was a comforting manner. While I wanted to help, everything felt so alien to me. I was worried I’d do more harm than good. But Tomas didn’t seem to mind, crying himself out as I held him.

Eventually, his tears ran out and his quiet gasps slowed. I thought for a moment he might have fallen asleep, but then he shifted in my arms. I let go, peering at his eyes as he sat up. They were red-rimmed with dark circles beneath, but the brown irises were clear, even if it took him a moment to focus.

“I think you should take a shower,” I said, “and then we’ll eat something. Okay?”

“Maybe.” His voice was quiet, staring off over my shoulder as if he was distracted by something. Focusing back on my face, he centered himself, speaking with a bit more clarity. “Hey, remember you said you were going to explain why you live in a fallout vault, but you never did?”

“Yeah,” I said. I remembered that. I’d been kind of hoping he’d forgotten, but apparently I wasn’t so lucky. “You’re gonna hold me to that? Fine. It’s not that interesting. My Mom was just paranoid as hell, and decided the best way to stay safe from ‘them’ was to go off-grid in the middle of nowhere, literally underground, with a full arsenal of weapons.”

“Where did you live before?” He leaned against the wall, curling his legs up as he listened.

“I didn’t. Well, my earliest memories were there. I guess it’s possible I lived somewhere else when I was a baby, but if so Mom never talked about it.”

“So she built that thing for you to live in?”

“No,” I shook my head. “She didn’t build it. She was really young when she had me, younger than we are now. No way she could build all that as a teenager, with a baby and all. I think she found it. She’d always complain about it too, such a broken piece of shit, you know? But she kept it running, somehow.”

“What was the point?”

“Because if she gave up, it would win.” I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m not even joking. She’d talk about how it was the best way to hide, to keep ourselves safe, but that was only part of it. More than anything else, she just refused to admit defeat. Either the system would work or she would make it wish it had worked. Failure was not an option.”

He closed his eyes, nodding at my words, which had somehow managed to wander around full circle. I hadn’t planned that, but I welcomed the happy motivational accident. Maybe I was better at this social thing than I’d thought. “Fine, I’ll get up. I’m really not feeling okay, though.”  
“You don’t have to feel okay,” I said, patting his shoulder. “You just have to get out of bed. That’s all I’m asking.”

* * *

When he came downstairs, hair tousled and damp, I was glad to see he’d changed into something that wasn’t pajamas. He fell onto one of the stools at the kitchen island, propping his forehead up on both hands. I slid a plate in front of him, hoping I’d done okay at this whole cooking thing. The lightly buttered bread and banana slices should be easy on his stomach, right?

He nibbled the fruit, then lifted the bread up and looked at it, a frown crossing his face for the briefest moment. He glanced to me, then back to the bread, before setting it back down on the plate as if he’d had second thoughts about whatever complaint he’d been about to make. But it was too late. I’d seen him think it, so now I had to know.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar. I saw you look at it all weird, so what did I do wrong?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, taking a small bite as if to prove that there really wasn’t a problem, which fooled nobody. “Normally people just toast bread when they butter it, that’s all.”

“Oh,” I nodded. “Yeah, I know that. I just didn’t want to make a big deal out of messing with the oven and all, since it’s not my house.”

“You can use my toaster, it’s fine.” He tilted his head as a confused expression grew across my face. “What?”

“Toasters are real?” I asked, feeling my face flush as I asked what I was suddenly realizing was a very stupid question.

“Uh, yeah.” He paused, a flash of confusion crossing his own face as he looked at me. “You thought toasters were fake?”

“I thought they were science fiction.” My cheeks were burning now. “You know: laser rifles, nuclear cars, pre-war toasters?”

“Jesus,” he said quietly, covering his face with his hand. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing, though very quietly and trying to hide it. I didn’t care if he laughed at me, because it was silly. It had just never occurred to me! And in my defense, they didn’t have them in the Sims, so how was I supposed to know? After a moment, he collected himself, scooted off the stool, and came to stand next to me.

He turned me around with a hand on my shoulder, pointing past me to the corner of the kitchen where a small metal appliance with two slots on the top sat on the counter, unplugged cord curled around it.

“That’s a toaster,” he explained. “You put bread in it, then push it down with the lever. Use the dial to control how dark you want it toasted. It’ll pop up when it’s done, but if it gets stuck, unplug it first before you try to un-stick it.”

“That’s so easy.” I grabbed my own plate of banana butter bread as I moved back over to the island along with Tomas. “Did you need me to fix that for you?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s fine.”

We ate in silence, my own curiosity at the food I hadn’t tasted before balanced by his tentative testing of each bite, eyes locked on his plate. When we were about half done, I broke the silence.

“We should go outside after you finish that.”

He looked to me, then to the window, where the mist pressed upon the glass. I watched his mouth tighten as he looked away, back to me. “Out there?”

I nodded, chewing another chunk of banana. I knew what they were of course, but I’d never eaten one before. It wasn’t what I’d expected, but I liked it.

“Do I have to? It’s so—” he broke off, staring out the window again. It took a moment, but eventually he found the description he was looking for “— ominous.”

“Really?” I followed his gaze, out into the white fog that blanketed the land around his house. “I kind of like it. It’s cool on your skin, and it softens the light. If you’d come from my planet you’d appreciate this a lot more. The light there, it’s so harsh you can’t even go out during the day. I’d kill to have some of your clouds.”

“Maybe.” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing. “It’s just that I can’t see what’s out there. Anything could be lurking, and I’d have no idea. That freaks me out.”

“We’ll go together,” I suggested. “If anything tries to jump you, I’ll shoot it in the face.”

“How touching.” I jumped as a soft voice spoke from behind me, whirling around to see that Princesprite had returned. He floated on the other side of the kitchen, running his fingers over his guitar as he watched us, flames crackling soundlessly around him. I guess he didn’t sound very Texan after all, not compared to how Tomas spoke. My mistake must have been due to the shock of hearing the American accent as I fell.

“You weren’t kidding,” Tomas said, his voice wavering as he looked the sprite up and down. “I didn’t know about this. I guess Bridget did something?”

“Do you guess, or do you see?” Princesprite moved closer, the long flames that stood in place of his hair flickering towards the ceiling. “You are the Seer, after all. So don’t guess with your mind; see with your eyes.”

“I thought I was the Bard,” Tomas said, then glanced to me. “I listened to some of the voicemails Alice left. That’s what she said.”

“Wrong!” There was that little shake of the head again, the same one he’d used on me when I’d fallen in the bush, with a judgmental huff to top it off. “That girl knows nothing. She’s not listening with her ears, and there’s a world of pain waiting if she doesn’t start soon. But that’s neither here nor there. What takes place in the Land of Wind and Towers has little to do with matters here in the Land of Mist and Orbs.”

I felt like I should be writing this down. Mist was obvious, but I didn’t know what he meant by orbs. Maybe it was orbs as in eyes, like what he’d said before? That would be way spooky.

“Should I go there?” Tomas’s question dragged my attention back to the matter at hand. “If she’s in trouble, I mean. I have to go help her out, right?”

“You should mind your own business,” Princesprite said, his lips a thin, disapproving line. “I can’t stop you from running off to do something foolish, but I can tell you that it won’t help anybody.”

“But I’m the only reason she’s here. I brought her here, and look,” Tomas pulled his phone out of his pocket, thumbing down through a menu. “All these texts, she said she needed me.”

“She said, she said. Enough with the she said. She said a lot of things, didn’t she? But what didn’t she say?”

Tomas opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, looking back down at his phone with a troubled expression. Princesprite nodded once.

“Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

Confused, I opened my mouth to ask what it was that she hadn’t said, but the sprite cut me off with a wave of his hand.

“This land needs its Seer. The mother of monsters has lost her children, scattered in all directions. Only the one who is able to perceive the veiled actuality can find them.” As Princesprite spoke, his hands moved, gesturing like the blossoming of a flower. I was still stuck on his words, my brain spinning on what ‘veiled actuality’ was supposed to mean. My Unisprite hadn’t been nearly this difficult to understand.

“I don’t even know what that means,” Tomas said, his troubled frown mirroring my own confusion.

“It means you are to go forth. Alone or with company, it matters not. But you must explore, learning every inch of this land, becoming as familiar with it as if it is your own body, or that of a lover.”

Tomas seemed taken aback at this frank comparison, his lips parting in speechless silence. I felt my own cheeks heat up once more as I looked away, not that it lessened the secondhand embarrassment.

“In short, Seer,” Princesprite continued, as if he’d never said anything strange at all. “Your adventure awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-binary is a massive umbrella label that covers a huge range of identities. I've written one(two?) character who falls somewhere under that broad label, but they're in no way representative of all NB folks. Just because A consented to being called "brother"(but only in a way so that you know it's fake) after excluding all other options as unacceptable doesn't mean that it's something that all NB people would like. It's just the word that worked for the two of them. And no, I'm not comfortable pigeonholing A down any further than NB. I have a sense of what form their gender takes in my head of course, otherwise I couldn't write them, but sticking labels that they never identified with(for a variety of reasons) to those ideas feels disrespectful of the character.
> 
> Yana's mom was a teen mom, yeah. I've got the math worked out somewhere I can't find, but I think I have her down for fleeing across the pacific with a baby in tow at 15-16 or so. This isn't even remotely near the most unrealistic thing about this story, so don't @ me. It's in line with the perceived super human nature of guardians in homestuck canon.
> 
> Everything Yana knows about how normal people live, she learned from video games. Toasters are surprisingly scarce in video games, when you think about it. I blame the teen mom failing to teach her proper home-ec classes.
> 
> Regarding that whole "see with your eyes" bit near the end, I can't remember if I was pulling off an actual Prince reference(if so, I can't place it anymore), trying to reference the Dark Tower for some reason(he who shoots with his hand...), or just put it in there because it sounded good and mysterious. For all I know, I might have just had that one Gorillaz song stuck in my head.


	26. Kayla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/2/20 update

Cold sand pressed against my back as I lay on the beach, darkness concealing the land from view. Listening, I examined every crash of waves, every snap of a twig, for information. Any sound might be my only warning that an Imp lurked nearby. The desert island I’d landed upon was small, no more than a hundred feet across at its widest, but it turned out the awful things could swim. I’d found that if I stayed on the beach I had the best chance of hearing them splashing out of the surf before they were upon me.

If any did slip past, they’d be drawn past me to the center of the island. I’d made that mistake the very first night, when I’d chosen to rest beneath the dim light of the gates. This turned out to be a mistake, as they were attracted like moths to a flame; half a dozen swarmed me at once, and I’d barely made it out. I’d wound up taking refuge inside the cave that ran deep beneath the island. Lacking a light to explore, I hadn’t gone far down the rocky stairs, just enough to strategically pick off the ambush.

God, I was so thirsty. Hungry too, but my cracked lips and parched throat bothered me more. The only water around was salt, which I knew would kill me faster than not drinking anything at all. If only I had the supplies I’d had to abandon back in the aquarium. I had plenty of grist now, after my run-ins with the Imps, but the only way I could spend it was probably resting at the bottom of the ocean by now. This game had bitter irony down to an art.

Part of me wished I’d never left the safety of the aquarium. As horrible and confining as the space had been, at least I’d been able to talk to my friends: Dan, always supportive no matter what my drama; Natalya, as awkward as I’d made things; even Alex, who was always heartfelt even when their actions were impulsive and inexplicable. I still felt bad that I hadn’t been able to finish the project for them. They’d only wanted one thing, and even my best hadn’t been enough.

Behind me, something crashed to the ground. I stumbled to my feet and turned back towards the center of the island, raising the staff before me as I considered the possibilities. The most likely variety of Imp waiting for me was a Thor, with that hammer they were always dragging around. A Captain America would also be okay, but I hoped it wasn’t an Iron Man. Those could fly, and that made them dangerous.

I crept towards the source of the sound, which had gone silent in a very un-Implike way. I placed one bare foot in front of the other, making my way through the sand as quietly as I could. As I approached the gates, I couldn’t see the tell-tale shapes of any of the varieties of Imps I was used to dealing with in the weak light shining down from above. Oh great, I’d found something new. What fun.

As I approached, moving around the few scraggly trees that grew on this largely barren island, a lumpy shape took form on the ground directly beneath the gates. Had it been an Iron Man after all? Maybe it had flown into one of the trees and knocked itself out. That would explain the noise I’d heard perfectly, come to think of it. Well, if it was already down for the count, then my job was very easy.

I stepped above it, raising my staff into the air. Drawing upon my fading strength, I drove it down, expecting an easy kill. But rather than exploding into grist as I’d expected, the form remained unyielding beneath my blow, spasming on the ground as the end of my staff smashed down into it.

“Ow, fuck!” it yelled, curling into a fetal position to protect itself. Oh my God. It wasn’t an imp. It was a person! I fell to my knees beside them, tossing the staff aside as I groped blindly for hands, a face, anything that would make them real. I found a sleeve and followed it to a bony wrist, pressed tight against its twin. I grasped them both, feeling a rapid pulse beneath my fingers: the sensation of another living human being.

I was so, so sorry I’d tried to murder them. Thank God it hadn’t worked. Forgetting for the moment how my mouth worked, I settled for expressing myself through my grip, squeezing the pair of wrists with relief, gratitude, and above all else, apology. We sat there for a long moment, two people breathing harshly into the night, before one of us was able to find words.

“Kayla?”

I knew who this had to be, even though their voice wasn’t anything like how I’d imagined it. It’s funny how you make up voices for people in your head, if you’ve never heard them speak out loud before. In my imagination, Alex had sounded like a grizzled lawman of the old wild west, the kind with a razor-sharp edge lingering behind every word. This soft, almost vulnerable, voice I heard now was something I might have expected out of Daniel. But the accent made it clear; you really couldn’t mistake Texas.

I pulled Alex up into a tight hug, burying my face in the shoulder of their jacket. Normally I would have minded the reek of stale smoke caught in the fabric, but at the moment none of that mattered. Besides, there was no room for me to criticize how anyone smelled. Between the ocean and the lack of a proper shower, I hardly smelled spring fresh myself. We held each other tight, huddled together in the sand beneath the gates.

“I’m so sorry,” I finally managed to croak out through bone-dry lips. “I thought you were an Imp. Are you okay?”

“No.” A strange hollowness filled their voice. “But not because of you. Are you okay?”

“Not really.” I pulled away so there was a bit of space between us. The light from the gates above wasn’t nearly strong enough to get a good look at their face. Had they fallen from up there? Were those the traveling gates Charles had been talking about? That would explain why Alex had wanted me to build up to the gates on their planet. But that would mean — oh, that was bad, even for them. I shook my head. “You’re an idiot, Munoz.”

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” And there was that sarcastic edge I’d been expecting.

“I mean right now, specifically. I don’t know what kind of hero you were trying to be, but you know there’s no way off this island, right? I’m not even sure how you got here—”

“You don’t want to know.”

“—I’m sure I don’t. But you’re stuck here now, just like me. You, you—” I stammered to a halt, my vocabulary failing me. “You gosh-darned idiot!”

“Maybe.” Alex’s stubborn tone rang out in the darkness, punctuated with the weak squeeze they gave my fingers. “But being stuck here together is better than being stuck here alone. I know what it’s like, being alone. It fucking sucks, okay? Besides, I brought supplies.”

“You brought—” my voice croaked into silence, the thirst and hunger that had fallen by the wayside returning with a vengeance at the mention of supplies. Alex pulled their hands out of mine, though I kept a grip on the back of their sleeve. I wasn’t about to lose them in the darkness, not so soon after finding them. I heard — and felt — them fumbling in the darkness, dragging something toward us. The familiar sound of a zipper cut through the darkness.

A light flared, blinding me. Letting go of Alex, I threw a hand up to shield my eyes from the flashlight that was pointed directly at my face. The light moved away, followed by a murmured apology. I blinked, adjusting to the sudden illumination. Alex had brought along a duffel bag that matched the olive green jacket they wore, and it was stuffed full of things. So many things.

Taking the bottle they handed me, I gulped too much of it down before I remembered we had to ration. Water had never tasted so good, but I forced it away from my lips anyway, pressing a sandy hand over my mouth so I couldn’t drink any more. Some kind of snack bar was pressed into my hands next. I ripped the crinkly wrapper off and bit into it; it was sweet, with dried berries and chunky nuts. It wasn’t real food — almost like candy — but I didn’t care. I ate the whole thing, trying to remember to slow down so I wouldn’t just throw it all up again.

I allowed myself two more swallows of water before I capped the bottle and looked up to meet Alex’s concerned eyes, illuminated from below by the flashlight resting on the sandy ground between us. They looked exhausted, with dark circles lurking under their eyes. They weren’t frowning, but nevertheless their thin face was tense as they watched me eat. They’d been telling the truth, back then. They weren’t okay at all.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of gently-curling hair behind their ear. Like every summer, temporarily freed from the personal grooming standards required by a Good Catholic Education, they badly needed a haircut.

“Everything.” They glanced away, a bitter half-laugh twisting their lips for a moment. “Everything’s gone to shit.”

“Come sit by the beach and we can talk about it?”

Alex didn’t reply, but nodded, pushing to their feet and gathering up the stuff they’d brought. I retrieved my staff and carried the flashlight as I led the way back out to the beach. We sat together facing the water, and they told me all about it. A lot of things had happened: Dan’s little sister, a no-notice cold turkey experience, and then of course the mind-numbing corridors they’d found beneath the surface of their planet.

“It’s like if you imagine the coolest quest ever, you know, seizing control of your destiny? So you come up with the worst fucking way anyone could implement it, right? And then you somehow find a way to fuck it up even worse than that. It was just hallway after hallway, with those stupid crystals at the end. They hurt my brain, K. And I thought it was looping, like I was fucking it up and resetting somehow, but no. It was literally just dozens and dozens of copies of the same thing. I’ve barely slept. It’s been miserable.”

As they spoke they leaned back, their jacket slipping down their shoulders to pool where their hands were pressed into the sand. The flashlight angled across their face, illuminating a deep frown that furrowed their brow even as it barely touched their mouth. I scooted closer, wrapping an arm around them in a comforting hug. They smelled better than their jacket did, kind of fruity. But maybe that was just me still being hungry. They tried to hug back but, lacking the necessary balance, we fell backwards into a sandy heap. I landed half on top of the duffel bag and nudged it over so we could both lean against it.

“I just wish my head would stop hurting,” they said after a moment. “It’s been ever since we started playing, and nothing takes the edge off. It’s let up a little since I got to your land, but it’s still there, pulsing in my brain.”

“A headache? You do remember you’ve been running around shooting a gun in little hallways, right?” The snark escaped before I could catch it. Horrified at myself, I covered my mouth. Alex was quiet for a moment, staring up at the sky. Then they turned to me and laughed, a sound of amusement that was genuine, if brief.

“True. I guess I’m just an idiot all around.”

“No, you’re not.” I felt them shift next to me, but I didn’t meet their gaze. Rather I moved closer, snuggling against their warmth. “It’s really nice to meet you. You know, for real. In person. Hi.”

“Yeah. Hi.”

I let the words fade away into the darkness, swallowed up by the lap of waves against the shore. The scent of salt on the air mingled with what I was now positive had to be raspberries. I didn’t know if that was soap, or cologne, or what, but I wanted it. I was exhausted, and I knew Alex was too. Even though we didn’t have a plan, I thought as my eyes grew heavier, I felt a million times better now that I wasn’t alone.

* * *

I opened my eyes, blinking in the early dawn light. I was on my side, head pillowed on something lumpy. My hands lay before me, twined loosely around a lighter brown pair, slightly larger than my own with heavily-bitten nails showing the chipped remnants of weeks-old black polish. For one horribly disorienting moment I couldn’t remember who belonged to those hands, then everything came flooding back. I raised my eyes, blinking the crud away.

Alex looked so peaceful when they were asleep. All the frustration was wiped from their sharp features, the tension banished from their jaw as they lay there, lips slightly parted. I smiled, closing my own eyes again. At least they’d finally gotten some sleep.

Something buzzed against my knee, shocking my eyes open again. I scooted away, de-tangling my hands as I looked for the source of the sensation. It turned out to be Alex’s phone, buzzing with an alert from the pocket of their jacket, which had slipped over me during the night. I slipped it out so it wouldn’t wake them up, noticing on the alert that Dan was trying to get hold of them. I opened the chat, sitting upright next to where Alex curled, sleeping on the sand.

**ElectronicDealer:** Dude, Charlie says you’re with Kayla?  
 **ED:** Nice going, I’m impressed  
 **ED:** Hey look, Nat messaged me saying Kayla was acting kinda weird  
 **ED:** Before, you know, she lost contact  
 **ED:** Don’t get me wrong, sinking to the bottom of the ocean’ll mess with anyone’s head  
 **ED:** So don’t judge her too harsh, you know?  
 **ED:** Just make sure she’s ok

I felt myself blush, reading the conversation about myself. Was I snooping? Oh gosh, I was snooping. The heat in my face intensified and I lowered the phone to my lap, clutching it with both hands. I felt it buzz again and dared a peek down, but it wasn’t Dan talking anymore. It was Charles.

**LogicalStrategist:** I have to admit I failed to see this coming. How were you able to communicate your position without a working device? Surely everything you had was ruined when you swam. Yet, somehow you still managed to call for assistance.  
 **BerettasRevenge:** No, I didn’t. Alex didn’t know where I was or what was waiting on the other side of the gate. I guess they just took a leap of faith.  
 **LS:** That was foolish. Perhaps even so far as to be outright stupidity.  
 **BR:** Yeah, but also brave. Don’t tell them I said that.  
 **BR:** So you can see me now? I thought you couldn’t move the camera away from the aquarium.  
 **LS:** That is correct. After you left, the aquarium continued to sink, eventually being caught up by a swift current. It was carried far beneath the ocean, coming to rest in a spot directly beneath the island you were sleeping upon. I suspect if you had stayed put, you would have been able to simply walk out the front door.  
 **BR:** Maybe. But we didn’t know that would happen.  
 **LS:** No, we did not. The choice we made was logical at the time we made it.  
 **BR:** Exactly. I don’t blame you for getting me wet, ruining my stuff, and stranding me on an island. Even though it sounds all passive aggressive when I type it out, like I do blame you. But I promise I don’t!  
 **LS:** You should return to the aquarium. I have dismantled your shelter, so we have some grist to work with. You have fallen behind the rest of us with regard to your advancement in the game.  
 **BR:** Maybe in a bit. The sun’s coming up, and I just want to lie here for a while.

I put the phone back to sleep, silencing the ringer all the way while I was at it. Replacing it in Alex’s pocket, I lay back down against the duffel bag. As I closed my eyes, I felt the warmth of the rising sun caress my skin. For the first time in far too long, I felt like everything might actually be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good point to note that friendly fire is a thing in the sburb game setting. You can target your teammates, either intentionally or as collateral damage from your attack. I don't imagine it being 100% realistic(shooting into a melee, for example, has some target assist mechanics working in the background to ensure your shot hits the enemy and not your friend), but PvP is enabled for sure. Everybody hates the guy who picked Flamethrowerkind.
> 
> It's so weird to type as BerettasRevenge with nice grammar and punctuation, even more so in my master document where it has the colors. I realize this is unrealistic for 2020, since everybody locks their phones now, but chat login swaps were a joke from homestuck that I wanted to carry over. Besides, it's just more fun for people to be able to snoop.
> 
> Soundtrack for Kayla's land, whatever it's called: [Fissure - Riven OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXBVUY74Os8)


	27. Tomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/9/20 update part 1 of 2

Mist surrounded me, isolating my senses as I stood alone among the trees, peering into a twisted grove. Dark boughs arched overhead, twining together to form a roof. Silvery leaves, fragile and paper-thin, hung from the trees. Hard-packed dirt lay beneath my feet — the same ground that I’d been walking on since I’d left my house — but as far as my eyes were concerned my legs ended at my ankles, where they entered the carpet of thick, white mist.

In the center of the grove — somehow, I couldn’t get gazebos out of my mind whenever I looked at it, though this was natural rather than man-made — was a pedestal formed from a sampling, and upon that pedestal sat a glass ball. An orb, maybe? I was afraid to step beneath the branches, to cross that threshold. I wasn’t particularly religious, but there was a sense about this place, like if I were I’d be saying all my “Our Father”s and “Hail Mary”s right about now. Somehow it was sacred, though to who — or what — I didn’t know.

I stepped through the archway — first one foot, then the other — exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding as I found myself safely on the other side. No bolts of lightning had come to smite me, or spooky whispers to drive me away, or anything else that meant I’d screwed up with regard to all-powerful forces beyond my comprehension. I guess it was okay for me to be here, then? I approached the orb, circling around the pedestal as I examined it.

It was about the size of a basketball, grasped in a cradle of claw-like branches, which reached halfway up the sides to prevent it from falling. Whatever it was made of was clear, perhaps glass as I’d first thought or even crystal. A heavy mist, denser even than the stuff covering the ground, swirled inside it. An intense, child-like impulse to touch the thing tore through me and I stepped back, shoving both hands safely into my pockets. Like hell I was gonna touch that!

But wait — I was supposed to explore, right? That was the whole reason Yana and I had come out here in the first place. Part of exploring was touching things and seeing what happened. So if I didn’t touch the orb, then I’d be a bad explorer and she’d make that disappointed face at me again. I didn’t want that. The most important person in my whole world had sacrificed themself for me, so I had to make sure that sacrifice wasn’t in vain. And you know what? Caution be damned, A would have wanted me to touch the orb. More than anything else, that settled it.

I reached out toward the glassy surface. As my fingers came in contact I tensed, waiting for a nasty shock or some other surprise, but nothing happened. All I felt was the smooth surface of the orb, cool beneath my touch. I ran my hands across the surface, then beneath it, gently lifting. It was heavy, but not so much that I couldn’t carry it. And do what with it I didn’t know, but I was going to pick the thing up and see what happened, because that’s what explorers do. It’s what A would have done, in my place.

“Stop it!”

The shout rang out just as the bottom of the orb came free of the claws. My eyes widened in shock, looking up through the entwined roof toward the sound. I knew that voice! The orb slipped from my fingers, balancing for one moment on the edge of the pedestal before gravity won. Glass shattered against the ground behind me as I ran out into the mist to scan the white sky above, searching for any trace of what I’d heard. But there was nothing there to see. I knew I’d heard it. It hadn’t been in my head, right?

I heard footsteps running towards me and turned, just in time to catch the sight of Yana emerging, breathless, from the mist. She clutched her rifle with both hands, barrel pointed towards the ground but ready to raise at the first sign of a threat. Her eyes were wide, strings of long hair plastered to her face from her frantic passage through this damp air.

“What’s wrong?” she said. “I heard you yell something.”

“That wasn’t me,” I said, a grin growing across my face. “You heard it, though. I don’t know how, but A made it in!”

“Tomas,” she said, concern rising in her voice, “there’s nobody else here.”

“Yes, there is,” I insisted, a harsh laugh escaping as I clung to what I knew. “I know my brother’s voice. They’re here!”

“Then where are they?” She took one hand off the gun, motioning around us. “This fog dampens sound, you know that. So if you heard them yell, they have to be nearby. What are they doing, running around climbing up trees and yelling at you, then scampering away to hide whenever we go looking? Does that really sound like something they would do to you?”

“No,” I said, the smile fading from my lips as the logic of her words reached me. “But then what did I hear? You can’t say it was in my head, because you heard it too.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was a branch snapping—”

“Seriously, Yana?”

“Shut up, I don’t know!” She shook her head, resting her hand against the arched trunk. “You’re right, that’s stupid. Maybe it’s the mist. Didn’t Stephen King write something like that?”

“I don’t think that was what that movie was about. There were monsters or something, right?”

“Well I never saw it. Doesn’t matter, not the point. The point is, this place messes with your mind. I heard a voice too, when I got here.”

“You never told me that!” I stepped forward, glass shards crunching beneath my footsteps. “What did it say?”

“Nothing important.” She shrugged. “It made fun of me for falling off the roof, or something like that. At first I thought it was Princesprite, but it didn’t really sound like him, so it must be the planet. It was just fucking with my head, that’s all. And it’s happening to you, too. So don’t let it mess you up.”

Yeah, don’t let the sound of my dead brother’s voice mess me up. Sure, I’ll get right on that. Keeping the bitterness to myself, I glanced behind me to where the pedestal stood, now clawing empty toward the sky. That feeling of sanctity, the sense that this was a place that was somehow important, had shattered along with the orb.

“I already messed up. There was an orb there, and I think it was important. But I dropped it when the voice happened.”

“That sucks.” Her mouth twisted in sympathy, but then she shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry too much; there’s more of them. I found one just back the other way. Maybe there’s enough that you breaking one doesn’t matter. What are they even for?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I was trying to figure that out when I dropped it. Can you show me the other one? I’ll be more careful.”

“Yeah,” she said, reaching to take my hand. She loosely cupped her fingers around mine, guiding me through the mist as she traced her steps back along the stakes and string we’d used to mark our path. As we walked, my phone chirped in my pocket. I peeked at it, stopping as I saw who it was.

“I should take this,” I said. “Sorry, I don’t think I can walk through this and text at the same time.”

“It’s fine,” she said, waving her hand. “The path isn’t going anywhere. Take your time.”

She looked away from me, returning both hands to her rifle as she stood guard, listening in the suffocating silence. I opened the chat, taking a deep breath as I prepared to face a conversation I’d been dodging for days.

 **PrincessAmor:** Hey r u there?  
**CulinaryArtisan:** Yeah  
**PA:** O  
**PA:** Mg  
**PA:** U never answer

Yeah, because you never asked how I was. Not once, in all those voicemails. But I guess neither did I. And maybe you didn’t mean anything by it, just like how I didn’t. Maybe one of us has to be first.

 **CA:** Are you okay?  
**PA:** Ya of course  
**PA:** I didn’t know games could be so fun  
**PA:** Y didn’t u play with me before?  
**CA:** You said you didn’t want to  
**CA:** How are you holding up with your dad and all that?  
**PA:** I’m FREE!!!  
**PA:** U have any idea how that feels  
**PA:** 17+ years of listening to him  
**PA:** Ugh  
**CA:** You’re okay with this?  
**PA:** Ya of course  
**PA:** If he was here now  
**PA:** Omg  
**PA:** Do not do this thing Alice  
**PA:** Do this other thing now  
**PA:** It is important that u accomplish this task in this precise manner  
**PA:** Otherwise my ocd will explode into a black hole  
**PA:** SO DONE with that!

I swallowed hard, the phone shaking where my trembling hands held it. I’d known her and her dad didn’t exactly get along, at least on a personal level. But reading her words, seeing her celebrate the fact that he was gone, made me feel sick. Yana stepped towards me, a concerned frown on her face, but I turned away, blocking her view of the phone with my body. This was personal.

 **CA:** You shouldn’t say things like that  
**CA:** He’s not coming back, you know  
**PA:** Hey u asked  
**PA:** Y ask if u don’t want to know?  
**CA:** I thought you’d say you missed him and wanted a hug or something  
**CA:** Because that’s how some of us are feeling, ok?  
**PA:** O  
**PA:** Ur brother  
**CA:** Yes!  
**PA:** I’m sorry I didn’t think  
**PA:** Ur right  
**PA:** U need a hug?  
**CA:** Yes  
**PA:** *hug*  
**CA:** *hug*  
**CA:** It’s not really the same as a real hug  
**PA:** I know  
**PA:** That’s why ur coming here  
**PA:** I’ll hug my bard for real every day

I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, where a headache had begun to pulse beneath my brow. Was she being serious right now?

 **CA:** We’re back to this again?  
**CA:** We can’t talk about me and my problems for five minutes without you bugging me to come to your land and be a bard?  
**PA:** No bby this is ur problem solution  
**PA:** U wanted real hugs  
**CA:** Yeah and it would have been fine if you’d just said to come here and you’d give me a hug  
**CA:** But you’re on the bard thing again  
**PA:** What r u talking about?  
**PA:** We never talked about the bard thing  
**CA:** No we never did  
**CA:** But you talked AT me about it for days!  
**CA:** I’m sick of you pushing this whole bard thing on me  
**CA:** I don’t think I’m even supposed to be a bard  
**CA:** Prince says I’m a seer  
**PA:** Where’d u get a prince?  
**CA:** Wow, not the point  
**PA:** Ur right  
**PA:** But also ur wrong  
**PA:** Ur the bard  
**PA:** Ur supposed to come play me a song and rescue me from a tower  
**PA:** Then u can have whatever u want forever  
**CA:** Alice, listen to me  
**CA:** I don’t even play an instrument  
**PA:** But I know u have a guitar  
**PA:** I saw it on facetime  
**CA:** That’s A’s guitar!  
**PA:** O  
**PA:** Hold on

Hold on why? This whole conversation, this argument about bards and stupid guitars, this was why I hadn’t picked up the damn phone when she’d been calling. Somehow I knew it would come back to this. She could be so self-centered sometimes, oblivious to what anyone other than herself might be going through. Then you remind her, she says sorry, and it sticks for about five minutes before it’s right back to bard town.

My phone rang, the screen changing to display an incoming call. Great. My thumb hovered over the option to send it to voicemail, but I couldn’t bring myself to swipe it. If I ignored the call, she’d know I was here ignoring it. I had to take it. I knew I should have just put her on mute and gotten on with my day. Biting my lip, I tapped to answer the call, bringing the phone to my ear in silence.

“I’m sorry baby,” she said, her words holding the appropriate level of contrition. They always did. And the worst part was, I didn’t even think it was fake. “There’s a lot happening.”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got it all confused, though.” No. She wasn’t going to say it. There was no way this was going where it seemed to be going. “You’re the bard, and you need to come here to be in the story or else the game won’t work right. It’s like a play. If nobody shows up to play Ferdinand, who will Miranda marry? The play will be ruined.”

“Who the hell is Ferdinand? I don’t know those people.”

“Oh my god,” she huffed into the phone, an impatient noise that spiked my pulse. “It’s Shakespeare, babe. It’s a classic.”

“Shakespeare doesn’t have anything to do with this, so leave him out of it. Look. The story, the play, whatever — it has to wait. Maybe you’re right, maybe this is something that might happen, but not right now. You’re ahead of yourself.”

I paused, catching my breath. My racing heart made it difficult to think calmly, to keep my voice level. The headache and pulsing blur to my vision didn’t help. I had to calm down. Behind me, I could hear Yana shifting between her feet, probably confused as hell about only hearing my half of the conversation. To her credit, Alice didn’t speak while I collected myself, allowing me to continue speaking into the silence on the other end of the line.

“Why don’t you come here? I’ll make you dinner, and we can do whatever you want. It’ll be fun.”

“How do I get there?”

“You have to go through the gates,” I explained, relaxing as the tension seeped away from the conversation. Even the headache’s pounding had eased off, much to my relief. “You have to have your server player build your house up to the gate, and then you can travel through them. It’s the same way I’d come to you.”

“Oh well I know about that, but I can’t do it that way. I’m playing pacifist.”

“What are you talking about?” I’d spoken too soon; the headache was back.

“I’m not killing anything. If I don’t bother it, then it won’t bother me, and that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

“Well then neither of us is going anywhere,” I said. “Even if I thought it was a good idea — which I don’t — I can’t get to you until you’ve built up to your gate, which means you have to fight something.”

“Well I’m not going to! I shouldn’t have to. If you really loved me, you’d find a way to make it work.”

“Wow.” I let that word hang for a while, not so much for dramatic effect as because I couldn’t figure out how to even respond. “Yeah, that’s not something I can just make happen. I don’t know what you want to hear.”

“I want to hear that you’re trying to make this work!”

“I am! I had a whole idea with you coming here, and you just — who plays a fighting game as a pacifist? It’s not going to work!”

“I never asked to play a freaking fighting game, okay? You dragged me into it.”

“Yeah, I guess I did. So I’m sorry for saving your life!” I was dimly aware that I was shouting, blasting my argument off into the surrounding mist. Somehow, I failed to give a shit. “I guess I should have just left you there to die with the rest of them. Is that what you wanted?”

“I—” As she started to reply, I shook my head, pausing only to catch a breath before I plowed forward again. She could talk when I was done.

“I’m still talking! I stuck my neck out for you. I refused to play unless they let you on the team, did you know that? No, you didn’t, because I never said and you never bothered to ask. I made damn sure you made it out of there alive, and what do you do? You sure as hell don’t ask if I’m even okay, I know that much. It’s all about what you want, and your story, and as soon as I have something that maybe I want it’s oh no, I can’t do that! How is any of that fair to me?”

I gasped for air after that rush of words, delivered as quickly as possible to avoid any more interruptions. The headache was constant now, rising and falling in intensity like an air raid siren embedded in the front of my brain.

“Are you done?” Her voice was quiet and emotionless. I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.

“Yeah.”

“I guess, maybe you’re—” a sharp crack blasted through the mist, making me jump and interrupting whatever she was about to say. “What was that?”

I looked around, but couldn’t see any sign of Yana. She’d stepped away while I was talking, or yelling, whatever I’d been doing just then. The gunshot had been close by, had to be, with the way the mist dampened every noise here. She must have run into one of those imps, maybe one that had been attracted by all the noise I’d been making.

“Don’t worry, it was just a gunshot.”

“Just a gunshot.” Her voice was faint, a hint of disbelief behind her words, like she didn’t get why I wasn’t more alarmed.

“Yana uses the riflekind weapon class,” I explained. “Don’t worry, there was just an imp or something.”

“Yana’s there?” Her voice turned cold, inflexible like steel. Something was wrong.

“Yeah? She showed up yesterday.”

“So you’ll play with her, but you won’t play with me.”

I covered my eyes with my hand, shaking my head. We were back to this again, just when I thought we’d managed to break out of it.

“Alice, I would play with you. You’ve just gotta come here.”

“And I’ve already told you why I can’t do that!” Her voice rose in pitch and emotion as she gained momentum. “You’re just trying to set it up so it’s my fault that this isn’t working.”

“That’s not what I’m doing at all.”

“Then prove it. Make your choice Tomas, her or me. Once you’ve decided who’s really important, I’ll be here waiting for you on the Land of Wind and Towers. Just follow the road, then look up. You can’t miss it.”

The call died in my ear. Stunned, I lowered the phone, staring at the screen. She’d hung up on me. Footsteps approached and I looked up into Yana’s face, concern written across her face.

“You were yelling, so I went to give you privacy.” She gestured vaguely over her shoulder with her thumb, though her eyes never left my face. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing.” I turned away, reaching out to find the markers we’d left, remnants of a more hopeful time. “I’m going back to bed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author is aware that is not what OCD means. Alice was looking for "anal-retentiveness" or possibly "control freakery."
> 
> Alice: "You have to choose, me or her!"  
> Tomas: "I choose BED."  
> Totally a valid choice. For the record, he has the patience of a saint. If I'd been in his shoes, I would have been done with that conversation way before this scene ended, but he's too damn nice.
> 
> Music for the Land of Mist and Orbs(LOMAO): [Hymn of the Cherubim - Tchaikovsky](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OPlK5HwFxcw)  
> There are religious lyrics to the song, and while Tomas does make a few Catholic references in this chapter that's not the direction I'm leaning when I attach this song to this place. The voices in the choir are an instrument, and word of god(that's me, I am god here) says any translation of the lyrics has no importance. The emotional feeling, though? Yeah, that's a thing. I like this piece because it seems heavenly and hopeful while they're singing, but every time they pause it leaves an ominous feeling, like they need to start singing again or else something's going to happen.
> 
> This is a double update because the next chapter is tiny, so don't miss that.


	28. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/9/20 update part 2 of 2

The wind whipped around me, threatening to lift me up and throw me to the ground below. I stumbled, falling to my knees as I was knocked from the transport portal platform by the unexpected force. Pushing myself to an upright position, I found my new place on the floor to be far more stable in the face of this gale. I looked around, narrowing my eyes as the wind stung them.

From the view, higher than anything in sight, I knew I had to be near the top of the tower. I wasn’t sure if I could even call this place a room. Encompassing the width of the entire tower, it was ringed by alternating pillars and wide-open archways. There was no barrier to break the wind, nothing to stop it the assault from screaming through. There was a bed, its only blanket tucked with military-tight precision so as not to flutter away, and beneath it I could see something small and round.

I crawled over to it, dragging it out to get a better look. It was surprisingly heavy, requiring both hands to drag the little metal pot from beneath my bed. Was this a chamber pot? Gross! I shoved it back under there, shaking my head. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for. When I’d stepped onto that platform, I thought I was going up to be Rapunzel. Rapunzel never peed in a pot!

Nah, forget this. I crawled back over to the platform, lifting myself up the half foot onto the raised platform that held the portals. There was a small one, about the size of a dinner plate, and the big one I’d used to get up here. I’d let him stew on it for a few days before I’d tell him that I’d changed my mind. Maybe I could even come visit him in that fog place after all, if he could give me some grist or something. But that other girl, Yana, she had to go. It’s not right that he’d invite her over when he wasn’t even taking my calls. Why wasn’t this thing working?

I beat the heel of my hand against the smooth stone of the portal, to no avail. When I’d stepped on the one down below, it had just worked. Between one breath and the next, everything around me had changed. So why wasn’t it doing anything? Oh crap. Had it been one-way? Was that a thing?

My eyes fell on the other portal, sizing it up. I could balance both feet on it, maybe, but there was no way even a girl with way fewer curves than me would fit above it. The denizens had been clear when they told me that I had to be very careful to keep all of me inside the portal perimeter, otherwise bad things would happen. Of course, they hadn’t bothered to tell me I couldn’t get back down, the little jerks. I can’t believe I’d ever thought they were cute.

No, I couldn’t risk it, not when their warning had been so clear. My only way out had been closed behind me. Until the terms of the prophecy were met, I was trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of act 2 act 1--alright, I can feel the collective glare of any readers already. I won't do the sub-acts thing. That joke got a little out of hand in the original webcomic, anyway.
> 
> Make sure you read part 1 of the double update.
> 
> Damn it Alice, what are you doing? Also, Rapunzel totally peed in a pot. You're smarter than this and would realize it if you thought about it for two seconds. Be like Rapunzel, enjoy your chamber pot. I didn't have to give it to you. I was being nice. Believe me, you really wouldn't like the alternative. :)


	29. Natalya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/16/20 update part 1 of 2

“It’s down here, hurry!”

I descended the cliffside path in a shower of pebbles, dust billowing in my wake. Behind me, I heard coughing. Alex had turned up yesterday as they made their way around the gate chain. I didn’t think they’d stopped at Charlie or Jamie’s planets, but I didn’t intend to let them pass mine without a good adventure. Besides, I needed another pair of eyes on something.

Reaching behind me, I found their wrist and tugged them along, feeling their sharp bones beneath my grip. What the hell was that about? I got that if nobody knew how to cook then the food would be bad and so you might not eat much. But if my brother was @TexMexTomas I’d be so fat, so what the shit?

I stopped as the path leveled off, part way down into the deep canyon. Alex didn’t, and collided against my back. I stepped forward to soften the impact as they stumbled to a halt, coughing a few more times to punctuate the experience.

“You can’t just walk like a normal person?” Their question was hoarse. I must have kicked up more dust than I’d realized.

“Nope,” I said, turning to look at them. Yeah, they were covered in a fine coating of pale dust. Whoops. “But you can go first next time.”

“I don’t know where I’m going.” They looked around, eyes widening as they took in the sight of the canyon. I’m sure I made that face the first time I came down here, too. I’d never seen a hole so deep in my life, cutting down through the rock toward the very heart of the planet. I’d been down to the bottom and there was no river or anything, only a thick layer of dust that consumed anything dropped upon it.

“It’s not far, come on.” They seemed recovered enough. I tugged them along the ledge, keeping reasonably close to the canyon wall. Not that I thought I would fall — Alex might, not me — but you never knew what might come crawling up. The music that betrayed their stealth was too easy to accidentally tune out.

As the cave came into sight, I felt the uncomfortable dread stir again in the pit of my stomach. I’d found this place a few days ago, while searching for a way to seed my land with, well, I wasn’t exactly sure. I had a sense of it — the potential of a green shoot, the emotion of a blossom just beginning to open — but the exact words to describe it lurked frustratingly out of reach. That’s the shitty thing about having a sprite that doesn’t talk.

Alex slowed as we approached, so much that I had to drag them along behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, noting their uneasy expression as they stared past me to the gaping hole in the cliffside.

“You feel it?” I asked. They nodded in response, a deep crease growing at the center of their brow.

“Yeah,” they said, a nervous edge rising in their voice. “I’ve felt it before, too.”

“Good, then you know what to do about it.”

Alex stopped dead about ten feet away from the cave. I didn’t blame them; I didn’t want to get any closer, either. Dropping their hand, I strode forward anyway, drawing my sword. Extending my arm to its full length, I used the very tip of my blade to tap a dark symbol set into the rock wall next to the opening. It resembled some kind of half-mask, with large eye holes and a prominent nose piece. Spikes were set around the edges, turning something that might have been silly or even cute into an unmistakable warning of danger.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked, watching Alex’s expression closely. Frowning, they shook their head, but the motion was uncertain, almost muddled.

“It looks like the one by your house,” they said, but that wasn’t the answer I was looking for.

“ _Nyet._ It is nothing like that one. That one is mine, but this is not. It’s alien, and it’s wrong.”

Alex stepped past me, reaching out to touch it. I lowered my blade as their fingers brushed the polished surface of the symbol. I watched them trace the edges with a trembling hand, shuddering when their fingertips crossed the mark. Whereas mine was the fresh green of living things, this was a dead, rotting black. And this mask, it even resembled a skull, like death itself. My symbol was vines, tendrils reaching upwards as they put out new growth. The two were nothing alike.

“I think it might be mine,” Alex said, the hesitation in their voice bringing me back to the moment.

“So you have seen it before.”

“No,” they shook their head. “Never. I’d fucking remember seeing — that. But this, right here—”

“You feel it too,” I said, watching them grasp at thin air as they struggled to explain. As I said it, they let their hands fall, nodding.

“Yeah. There’s something in there, right? Maybe it’s a crystal, or something else, and it just feels fucked up in the worst way. And it casts some light, but it’s wrong, like—”

“—like it can’t exist.”

“Yeah! Man, you get it. I tried to talk to Kayla, and she said all the right words, but it’s like how you talk to a little kid who thinks their closet’s haunted. She didn’t actually believe there was anything wrong.”

“I believe it.”

Alex nodded, shoving their hands in their pockets as they backed up to the path’s edge, nervously wetting their lips with a quick flick of their tongue.

“So I got an ID on your mystery thing. We’re done here?” I shook my head and they sighed, turning away to look out at the canyon. I stepped up behind them, wrapping my arm over their shoulder and around their chest. I mostly meant it in a reassuring way, but also it was a long way down, so there was that too.

“If that’s your symbol, then I need your help.” I spoke quietly into their ear, my heart thudding against their shoulder as we stood on the edge of the cliff. I’d thought about this a few times, how it might feel to be standing this close together, where things might go, but it had never been quite like this. The cancer looming behind us poisoned any mood that might possibly have been.

“I don’t want anything to do with it.” They spoke through gritted teeth.

“I need that thing gone,” I said, the last word twisting my lips with emotion as I spoke. I didn’t just mean I wanted it to go away. I wanted it dead, obliterated as thoroughly as if it had never existed in the first place. I needed that piece of shit erased from my planet so my seed could grow.

“It’s not that hard, you’re strong.” Alex leaned back against me as they spoke. “Just hit it with your sword. Once it breaks, whatever was fucked up with it goes away.”

“I tried that.” My voice was grim as I held my sword out in front of them, angling it so they could see the blackened spot that marred the blade. “Didn’t work.”

“Shit,” they said, straightening up. I felt them engage, taking the situation seriously. Good. “I just shot it, that’s all. I don’t know how else to break it.”

“What if it’s not how, but who.” Alex turned, slipping around in my loose grasp to face me. Their expression, tight around the eyes and mouth, made me feel so bad for asking, but I didn’t know what else to try. If they really had taken one of these out before, it was more than I’d managed to accomplish. “I can’t do anything until it’s gone. Please, Alex.”

“Don’t make me go in there alone.” As they spoke, their mouth twitched into a grimace. Though the expression was only for a split second, the slip was like a spear to my heart.

“Never,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be right behind you, all the way. I promise.”

They slipped their hand into mine and I turned, leading the way into the cave. Alex had the flashlight, but didn’t turn it on. It wasn’t necessary anyway. It should have been, and the fact that it wasn’t had my hair on end. I didn’t like that I could see every dip and ankle-twisting rock that lay along the passage, not when the light that showed me those things was so unnatural.

The cave wasn’t deep, a short tunnel that opened up into a small chamber. At the center was a crystalline structure, tall as a man and thick enough around that I couldn’t have circled it with my arms even if I’d wanted to touch it. It was horrifyingly solid, as my futile attempts with the sword could attest. They hadn’t left so much as a scratch to mar its perfect, smooth surface.

My grip on Alex’s hand tightened as I looked the thing over, and I felt their own stubby nails digging into the flesh of my palm in response. They were as unnerved by this as I was.

“It’s bigger than mine were,” they said, their voice echoing through the cave even though they’d barely spoken above a whisper.

“Is that a problem?”

“Might be.” I felt them shift beside me before tugging their hand out of mine. A quiet clatter and click came as they readied their weapon. “Stay there. I don’t want to shoot you.”

The shot was unexpectedly loud. I jumped, the sound filling the chamber in spite of the silencer Kayla had made Alex attach. The crystal’s light flickered for a brief moment as the bullet struck, but it remained intact, its presence still dominating the cave.

“It’s too solid,” Alex said. Their words were quick, flustered, almost fearful. “The other ones, they just came apart. But I don’t think that’s going to happen this time.”

“Wait,” I instructed, stepping forward. As much as I didn’t want to get any closer to this thing than I had to, it was necessary. I approached to within arm’s length, fighting the urge to turn and run as I peered at the surface. There was the pit where Alex’s bullet had struck. It was still embedded in the crystal, a spider web of cracks spreading away across the lump of deformed metal. Even so, it wasn’t enough. We would need a thousand bullets to take this thing down.

“It’s not going to work.”

I jumped, startled by the sound of their voice directly behind me. I hadn’t heard them approach. Glancing over my shoulder, I shrugged.

“It might. That never happened before.” I pointed to where the bullet was lodged. “It’s weaker now, see those cracks? So maybe if I try again…”

I let the thought trail off, hefting my sword as I took a step back. Behind me, I heard Alex shuffle back. Smart. I swung the blade through the air a few times for practice, then readied it over my shoulder. With a grunt of effort, I stepped forward, using the momentum to swing as hard as I could towards the crystal growth.

The blade bounced off with a solid clang, the force of the blow radiating back through my arms. I breathed deep, flexing the numbness out of my fingers as I stared at the bane of my existence, unchanged and unmoving. Still, it had gone better than last time.

“So much for that,” Alex said, but I shook my head.

“It was different this time. Before, it was more explosive.” I narrowed my eyes, thinking back to my previous attempts. When I’d first tried to attack the thing, I’d been thrown back across the room, punished for daring to raise my blade. But this time, that hadn’t happened. Was it because it was damaged?

“The not-light, it flickered when you shot it. What if that’s the time to strike?”

“I can’t shoot it while you’re standing next to it,” Alex protested, but I held my hand up, turning my own narrowed expression to meet their wide-eyed gaze.

“Are you a good shot or not? I trust you not to hit me. How many shots in that clip?”

“Not a clip.” They rolled their eyes at me — whatever, I didn’t give a shit about that — but answered anyway. “Fourteen left, I reloaded before we came down here. Why?”

“I need that whole clip, or whatever it is” — I rolled my eyes right back at them — “emptied into that thing, with about two seconds between each shot. I can work around that as long as your timing is good.”

“If you wanted a sense of rhythm you should have asked Dan,” Alex complained.

“Yeah but he wouldn’t be nearly as much fun.” I grinned at them, allowing myself the brief flirtation in defiance of the tumor that loomed behind me. They met my eyes, hesitating for only a second before they nodded, a slight smirk dancing around their own lips. Good, they were on board.

“When you’re ready,” I said, stepping aside to give them a clear shot. I’d need to be fast, once the shot went off. Two seconds wasn’t much time, but I didn’t want to give this thing a chance to recover. It was going down.

The first shot ripped through the air beside me. Without thinking, I executed my plan: step in, strike, step out! So quickly had I moved that I was already twirling away by the time the results registered; my steel had bit into the rock, driving shards from the surface rather than bouncing away without effect. Success!

Another shot came, leaving me no time to celebrate. Timed with the flickering plunge into true darkness, I struck again. And again. And again. I lost count somewhere along the way, lost in a flickering trance of gunfire and blade dancing. Only once the shots stopped coming did I realize it was over.

Panting with effort, I turned to face my target. The not-light the damaged crystal was casting had dimmed, flickering constantly in a way that made my eyeballs ache. Part of it had been sheared off entirely, shattering against the floor where it had fallen. The rest was covered with jagged scars and pockmarks from our combined efforts.

And yet, it still stood. But not for long, not if I had anything to say about it. I hefted my sword, screaming furious defiance as I charged. My blade thrust toward the battered remnants and struck true, penetrating deep into the heart of the crystal. Not-light burst out, blinding my vision and searing my mind. I screwed my eyes shut, screaming as I fell into darkness.

* * *

When I opened my eyes again, it was still dark. Not the dark that was actually filled with unnatural light, but true, wonderful darkness. My head didn’t hurt at all. Actually, I felt great, like when you get your first full night of good sleep after a long illness. I was filled with the energy to get up, to go do all the things. I sat up, but when I attempted to get to my feet, a hand on my arm stopped me.

“Careful. You okay?” Alex whispered from behind me. I could feel them now, their warmth pressed against the back of my shoulder. “You passed out. It’s been hours.”

“I didn’t mean to. But it’s fine, I feel great now. That thing’s gone, right?”

Alex didn’t reply, but clicked the flashlight on. Pointing the light over my shoulder, they showed me the shattered remains of the crystal. Good. It felt safe now, like whatever poison it once held had been neutralized. I smiled my thanks, relaxing back against Alex.

“You didn’t take me back home?”

“Are you joking? You’re a fucking amazon, like hell I could carry you all the way back there.”

I laughed, turning to wrap my arms around their shoulders. Yeah, they were smaller than me. It wasn’t a big deal; most people were, even a lot of guys. Our noses brushed together as I leaned close, before pausing for just a moment. I had to be sure. As they tilted their face up to meet mine — yeah, that was pretty sure — I smiled to myself as our lips met.

We kissed in the darkness, the forgotten flashlight pointing off somewhere behind me to illuminate something that didn’t matter. I felt their pulse quicken, my own responding in kind as they brushed my hair back out of my face. Shit, they were good at this! I’d fooled around before, but none of those idiots had known what they were doing. This had been worth waiting for.

As we moved on from kissing to other things, I felt something building around us. It was in our quick, gasping breaths, the warmth of their hands against my waist, the swift motion as I pulled them on top of me, and the pile of unnecessary clothes that grew beside us. Life. This was Life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is as sexy as it gets, don't worry...this isn't a smut fic. Sorry to disappoint if you wanted more. Your imagination is that way, have fun!
> 
> So here we're getting more into aspects, specifically Life. Life is good sex, apparently(thanks, Natalya). Also growth, especially growth unrestrained by restrictions or boundaries, and the freedom to exist(and change) as you desire. Life is wild, and unpredictable. Life is **not** conception or origination of any kind, that's Space. Life is what comes after that and before the end, all those bits of joy and pain, accomplishments and mistakes, that make us human(or troll, or whatever species we are). That's my headcanon, and I'm sticking to it.
> 
> I'm not going to get into Doom at this point, other than to mention it's a paired counterpoint to Life. I think of aspects more nebulously than some theorists, but I do follow the pairings(Life/Doom, Space/Time, Light/Void, Heart/Mind, Rage/Hope, and Blood/Breath). I will say that Doom isn't necessarily bad, in the same way that Life isn't necessarily good. Natalya thought of that crystal formation as a cancerous tumor, but doesn't cancer come out of Life(uncontrolled growth)? I suppose that's why I think of the two as counterpoints rather than opposites, as they're entangled with and defined by each other.


	30. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/16/20 update part 2 of 2
> 
> Bonus Saturday edition!

I walked out of the cave, alone. It was well into the night and the chill breeze whispering through the dust provided a stark contrast to the warm, quiet cave. I tugged my jacket close around me, leaning back against the rock wall. Out of habit, I reached into my pockets. Only after I’d groped and patted through my entire jacket did I remember I’d dropped the last pack back on Earth, never to be seen again. I just had to deal.

I sighed and lifted my chin as a light breeze caressed my face. It had been okay. I mean, it had been fun. There’d been nothing wrong with it, or with her. It just hadn’t been — I didn’t know what. I frowned, scuffing at the ground with the toe of my sneaker. It was all Kayla’s fault. She’d ruined it for me, trying to tell me what I was or wasn’t worth. I’d been into it until I’d gotten that stuck in my head, right? Now I didn’t know how I felt about anything.

Tired, I guess. I felt tired. I’d fallen asleep after we’d finished and I’d woken up just a few minutes ago, laying on the hard ground. Her back had been pressed up against mine, moving slightly with each deep, slow breath she took. I hadn’t liked that. It felt so detached, more alone than I’d thought I could possibly feel sleeping next to someone else. Maybe I wanted someone to hold me, ever think of that? No, of course you didn’t.

Jesus. I felt like such an asshole, standing here picking apart something a friend — a good friend — had done with me to try to have a good time. It had been fine, really. It was just that something had been missing. The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t really think it was her fault. The problem was with me, in my head.

I should just go. It wasn’t like she expected me to stick around, right? I’d only stayed to look at her problem, and we’d both known what happened in there was just for fun. So nothing was stopping me from just leaving. Normally I wouldn’t leave anyone sleeping alone in a cave with monsters around, but Nat was different; she could slay those things in her sleep, probably while dreaming she was the Dragonborn or something.

But even I couldn’t just leave without saying anything. I mean, it’s not like I hadn’t done it before, but that was different. I didn’t know those people. She was my friend, and deserved to know I hadn’t just fucked off a cliff in the middle of the night. I pulled my phone out, squinting in the sudden glare as the screen blazed to life.

 **BerettasRevenge:** gone to dans sleep well

After sending the quick message, I fiddled with the phone to activate the flashlight. I’d decided to leave the real one here, since it seemed extra shitty to take the light away on top of everything else. Okay, where was I going? I swept the light around, orienting myself. Once I’d found the way back, I remembered the way well enough to know it would be about a fifteen minute walk out of the canyon. Stifling a yawn, I set off up the path.

By the time I stepped through the gate, I felt like a very long journey had finally reached its end. Massive shards of quartz glimmered faintly in the distance as I made my way down the kick-ass staircase I’d built, the one that curved down around Dan’s house to give a scenic view of the land. His crystals were way better than mine, even more so now that I’d seen them in person. I didn’t know where this game got off on giving me the Crystals land, but making them the lamest pieces of shit ever. And don’t get me started on those fucking corridors.

I stepped off the staircase onto the ground, bending down to touch the shimmering surface. It was dark, smooth stone, flecked with some kind of reflective mineral. Very cool. Very not boring. Very unfair. Rolling my eyes, I reached for the doorknob, realizing my error only as I walked straight into a locked door. I hit the solid wood with a thud, bounced off, and stumbled back a step before I was able to catch my balance. Well, fuck.

What kind of an idiot made the gate entrance external? This idiot, apparently. It had made sense at the time, I reasoned, looking up at it. Who knew what might be happening on other lands? If the gates connected directly to the inside of Dan’s house and there was a breach somewhere else, it wouldn’t matter how secure his doors were if the enemy could just waltz right in. I’d never expected that I’d be the one caught on the outside, though. I wasn’t the enemy!

I fished my phone back out with a frustrated sigh. I knew I’d do it the same way all over again, given the chance. In a way, that made it worse. If I could blame someone, even myself, for doing it wrong I’d feel better. But I knew I’d designed the thing right. It was what I was trying to do now that was weird.

 **BerettasRevenge:** hey man can you let me in  
**BR:** im outside  
**BR:** your house i mean  
**BR:** on loqag

There was no response. I shook my head, putting the phone back in my pocket as I leaned against the wall beside the door. He was probably busy or something. I should have just stayed with Nat. I wasn’t thinking any of this through, jumping from place to place without a plan. Shit, it was surprising this was the first time I’d come up against a locked door.

The deadbolt clicked beside me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I turned as the door opened, first a crack and then more, revealing an Asian guy wearing a t-shirt and a pair of Iron Man boxers. Huh. I’d thought he’d be taller, but we were actually almost the same height. Dan looked me over, then shook his head, raising a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Bro. It’s 3:30 in the morning.”

“Is it?” Shit, that late? I hadn’t thought to check.

“Yeah. How did you not—” he broke off then grinned, spreading his arms. I stepped forward into the hug, holding my best friend tight. For once, something was everything I’d thought it would be, even though I’d shown up in the middle of the night like some huge asshole. He’d forgiven me for it. Of course he had. He always did, even when I didn’t deserve it. No, especially when I didn’t deserve it.

“I made it,” I said, my words muffled against his shoulder, but I think he heard me just fine.

“You did.” He patted my back, then stepped away, motioning into his house. “Get in here before something nasty shows up.”

I stepped inside, waiting as he secured the door behind me. It was dark, and while I’d gotten a look around through the game interface, I didn’t trust myself to try walking anywhere. A moment later, a sudden, dazzling light filled the room as Dan flicked the lights on, causing me to squint my eyes shut.

“Sorry, there’s no dimmer.”

“That’s fine,” I said, peeking around as my eyes slowly adjusted. Yeah, this room looked pretty much the same as it had from the game view, except it was a hundred times better to actually be standing here in person. The dark blue couches looked inviting, far softer than my own threadbare, sagging furniture. And that TV, man, that was a lot of inches. We were going to watch so many movies here. That dark smudge on the ceiling was suspicious, though.

“Wizard accident?” I asked, pointing up to it.

“Yeah,” Dan said, laughing quietly as he scratched the back of his neck. “If Kayla asks, it was there ever since I was a kid, I don’t know what happened, and I definitely didn’t do it.”

“Sure thing.” My eyes were drawn to the couch again, specifically the plush softness of the cushions. Laying down felt really nice right about now. I started toward it but Dan intercepted me, throwing up both hands to block my path. “What?”

“Dude,” he said, looking me up and down. “You are not sitting on my sofa looking like that. What were you even doing, rolling up and down the beach?”

Confused, I looked down, noticing for the first time the mess that clung to my clothes. I was covered in a heavy coating of pale dust, dirt that refused to come off even as I brushed at it with my hands. That was a problem.

“Up those stairs, second door on the right is the bathroom,” Dan instructed, grasping my shoulders and turning me to face the stairs. “The shower’s all yours, and you’re welcome to use anything in there. If you leave the door unlocked, I’ll drop some clothes in for you to borrow. Just leave that stuff you’re wearing now on the floor. We can try to work the washer tomorrow.”

“Then can I sit on your couch?”

“Yeah bro,” Dan grinned. “I’ll bring down a pillow and blankets.”

Once I’d found the bathroom, I stripped down and turned the water on hot. It felt good to wash the dirt off, to watch it swirling away down the drain in water that gradually turned from cloudy to clear as I showered. It felt weird to use someone else’s shampoo. All of mine smelled like interesting things, fruit mostly, but Dan’s just smelled like normal, boring soap. I used it anyway, scrubbing the dust from my hair and scalp.

When I emerged from the water some time later, there was a pile of clothes waiting for me in the steamy bathroom. I put them on, hitching the sweatpants up as best I could. Dan had tried, but the smallest he’d been able to come up with was a large, so still about two sizes too big. It was good enough to sleep in, though. I wasn’t about to complain.

I returned downstairs to where the couch waited for me, soft and inviting. After preparing myself for the coming darkness, I turned the last night off and shuffled my way across the room. Laying down, I pulled the warm, quilted blanket over me as I sank down into the pillow, smiling to myself. Now this, this felt right. More than just right. It felt like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How many times are you going to say it's okay, fine, and other variants before we actually believe you, Alex?
> 
> I love Dan's implication that working the washing machine is going to be a task worthy of heroic effort. He might have relied on his mom to do all his laundry, but Alex for sure knows how to work a laundromat. They just, uh, tend to not use it nearly as often as they should. Probably because it costs money and money spent on washing clothes is money that's not being spent on soda, take-out, and drugs. Not necessarily in that priority order.
> 
> Bonus Saturday update because first I had chapters 29 and 30 going up together on the 16th. Then I thought, no, they work just fine on their own. Then I thought about putting them back together again, and I was like no, it's _fine_. Really. It's fine. Everything's okay. They can be separate. So I posted yesterday's, and it was fine dammit! But actually it's not fine( _Alex_ ), and they should have gone up together! So you get a bonus Saturday indecisive author update, and I get to pry Alex out from where they crawled up into my brainspace. Fun times for everybody.


	31. Bridget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/23/20 update

“I told you, I’m not tired,” I protested, squinting my exhausted eyes at Starlightsprite’s long face. He snorted, nuzzling at me until I stroked his nose. “There’s just so much to do.”

“You are as important as the rest of your herd,” he lectured me. I still wasn’t entirely used to having actual conversations with a water ghost version of my horse, but I was getting there. “You worry over them, you type and chatter for hours, as a good Sylph should. But what will happen when you can go no more?”

I didn’t respond, knowing he had a point. There was only so much of myself I could give before I burned out, and I knew I was dangerously close. Not only had life been so much more stressful since our arrival in the medium, but I felt as if the very land itself was draining my inner strength away. Starlightsprite had alluded to a sort of soul sickness that befell most who lived here, and I could already feel it prying at the edges of my mind, looking for a way in. I was supposed to fix that, too. I was supposed to fix a lot of things, and on top of it all, he wanted me to sleep?

“There’s just no time,” I protested, cringing inside as I heard the whine in my voice. I sounded like a child, begging my grandfather for another sweet. “Maybe I can take a nap later, but I’m supposed to call Ali now to check in with her. You know she’s been up in that tower—”

“Pay no mind to the silly tower girl.” He snorted into my shirt, pawing the ground to express his disapproval. “She chose to separate from the herd, and brought all the misery that entails upon herself. Do not let her distract you from your goal.”

“My goal is being a good friend.” I really didn’t have enough energy to be arguing right now. My attempts to form sentences felt like I was trying to sculpt something out of clay, except I’d made it with too much water. No matter what I tried, it all just kept falling back down again. With a shake of my head, I reached for my computer. “I’m sorry. I’ll sleep later, I promise. Right now, I have to—”

Distracted as I was, I never saw it coming. One moment I was holding my laptop, trying to form a coherent sentence, and the next I was falling, knocked from my perch by a vicious head butt. Pain blossomed through my chest as I fell backward, eyes closed in anticipation of an impact that never came. Instead, the ground gave beneath me as if I’d fallen onto a pillow. Grass was soft, but it wasn’t supposed to do that. And why didn’t my chest hurt anymore?

I opened my eyes to see a gilded ceiling. Sitting up, I found myself in a strange bed among golden sheets, in a room that — well, let’s just say that everything in here was some shade of deep to pale gold. Even the silky pajamas I wore matched the one-note color scheme. I pushed the covers back and got to my feet; as I stood, I caught my reflection in a mirror mounted on the wall. My hair was pulled back into a long braid, with the wavy locks too short to capture framing a face free of the exhaustion that had plagued me over the past days. I looked how I felt — really good.

This had to be a dream. I couldn’t believe I was wasting my time dreaming when there was so much to do. Even as that thought crossed my mind, I was struck by the absurdity of it. Was I seriously feeling guilty about something so natural as REM sleep? Starlightsprite was right; I’d been working way too hard. I knew I needed the rest, and it wasn’t like I’d chosen to fall asleep, so I might as well enjoy the break. I’d tell him off for interfering when I woke up.

This was the first time, at least to my recollection, that I was dreaming lucidly. What were you even supposed to do, when you realized you were dreaming? Should I magic up a crush or create the most incredible butterscotch confection imaginable, something impossible except in the realm of dreams? Well, I could, but maybe I should start with something more traditional. How did you fly?

Feeling a bit silly despite the lack of observers, I bent my knees, flapping my arms as I jumped into the air. I half-expected it not to work, for me to fall back to the floor with a nasty jolt, but as I hovered in midair I felt a smile spread across my face. This was incredible! It also provided an exit from this room, replacing the missing door with a convenient window. As soon as I thought about moving forward I did, the motion as natural as walking. My arms seemed to be unnecessary to the flight, so after I tucked them to my sides to fit through the narrow-arched window I kept them there.

Outside, a cluster of buildings curved away toward the horizon, with two towers identical to the one I’d just left rising high above all others. Three guesses what color it all was, and the first two don’t count. A massive chain rose into the sky, connected to something overhead. I looked up, and nearly fell out of the air as I beheld the massive golden city growing out of the sky above me.

I rested against the outside of my own tower, closing my eyes to relieve the disorientation. It was just a dream. Dream logic gets weird sometimes, that’s all. I wasn’t falling, so I would be okay, just as long as I didn’t look up. I opened my eyes, repeating the mantra over and over in my mind: just don’t look up.

To distract myself, I flew over to investigate the other towers. I was disappointed to find them both empty, with unmade beds. The towers might be vacant, but I could see people walking beneath me, on wide avenues and across narrow bridges. They seemed strangely blank, like a mannequin made out of pure white plastic and dressed up in fancy golden clothes. Worried that my dream might turn into a nightmare if I acknowledged them, I stayed well up in the air.

Bridges, archways, terraces and shorter spires filled the space below the three towers, giving me plenty to explore, but it wasn’t long before something in the distance caught my eye. At first I thought it was another creepy blank person, but no, this one had hair. That was curious. I flew closer, desperately trying to think of anything except for what horror might be on their face if they turned around. Thinking of a thing in lucid dreams often summoned it, after all. At least, that’s what I’d read.

As I drew near, I realized they weren’t dressed like the others either, in fancy court outfits. They were dressed more like me, in a simple set of gold silken pajamas. Maybe not exactly the same as mine — simple pants with a long-sleeved tunic that fell to mid-thigh — but similar in design, and identical in materials. Curious, indeed.

I watched the person — it was a guy, I was almost certain — for a time. He sat in the notch of a crenelated wall, one hand wrapped around the corner beside him as he looked out over whatever lay below. Somehow I just couldn’t shake the feeling that this person was familiar, that I should recognize him. But from where? All I could see from behind was his brown hair, cut short and very slightly tousled to give a “just rolled out of bed” look. Perhaps I’d dreamed up a crush after all.

A laugh escaped as that thought occurred to me; it was nothing more than a quick bark of amusement, but that was enough. As the sound echoed out over the city, he heard me; turning, he fixed his warm brown eyes on mine. Oh no. I knew exactly who he was. This just wasn’t fair! I wasn’t supposed to dream about my bff’s boyfriend, not when their relationship was already rocky and especially not after I’d just been intimately involved with saving his life.

Tomas stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. When he spoke, his words were quiet, hesitant as if he was out of practice with speaking. It was still his voice though, the one I remembered from our brief conversation as he’d prepared to enter the game medium.

“You’re awake, then.”

“What do you mean, I’m awake?”

“From up there.” He climbed through the crenelation, gesturing behind me to the towers. His voice was still strange, stilted somehow despite the strength he’d managed to gather behind the words, and his eyes darted away whenever I tried to make eye contact. “I didn’t watch you while you were sleeping or anything like that. I was just exploring one time and I saw you in there. You’re Bridget.”

“Of course I’m Bridget.” It hadn’t been a question when he’d said it. This conversation was confusing, and not at all like how dream dialogue usually went for me. “Why wouldn’t I be myself?”

“I used to think you were Yana. I never knew what she looked like because she wouldn’t run the webcam, and with two boys and a girl up in towers I just assumed, you know: me, Greg, and Yana. But I saw her for the first time, you know, that day. So I know you’re not her or — well, you’re not, and you’re not Asian, so you must be Bridget.”

“This is officially the strangest conversation I’ve ever had in a dream,” I said, mostly to myself, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s not. You’re not dreaming.”

“Of course I’m dreaming. Look at me!” I twirled on the spot, hovering in midair for a long moment before descending to the roof he stood on. “Last time I checked, flying doesn’t work outside of dreams. And all those faceless white things down there—”

“They have faces,” he interrupted. “You just didn’t get close enough to see. They’re not like us, but they’re nice. And it’s okay if you’re confused. I used to think I was dreaming, too. But then Yana was explaining the guide she found, and when she told me the name of the one moon, I already knew it. I’ve visited Prospit every night since I was a kid.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You just go to sleep, then wake up somewhere else?”

“I know,” he held his hands out in an empty shrug. “Yana didn’t believe me either. She thought I’d gotten confused reading that group chat, and forgot I hadn’t known it before she’d said it there. But I looked back at the log, and she never mentioned the name. Not once. So then how did I know it?”

I waited for him to finish telling the story, but instead he fell silent, staring off toward the giant chain in the distance. His expression matched his tone: words and expressions that were normal on their own assembled to form a construct that rang hollow when struck.

“Well,” I prompted, “What did she say to that?”

“Oh,” he said, returning his attention to me with a little shake of his head. “I didn’t get the chance to bring it up. It might not have done any good, anyway. You kind of have to experience this for yourself if you want to understand it, so she probably has to wake up first.”

“How can she wake up if there were only three people sleeping here, and none of them were her?” Even as I prodded the hole in the dream-logic, I felt my brain adding numbers and filling in the gaps as it searched for the name of the other moon — the dark moon — the guide had mentioned.

“If three of us are here on Prospit, then the other three are probably on Derse.” And there he went, integrating my idea in record time. I nodded, starting to get a feel for how this worked. He was like an interface with my subconscious, organizing my ideas and repeating them back to me so I could understand them properly. Hey, I’ve had worse dreams. As he caught sight of the expression on my face, his mouth twisted into a sad smile. “You don’t believe me either.”

“Of course I don’t. You’re just a figment of my dream imagination — totally unfair, by the way.”

“Why is that unfair?”

He had a point. Why was it unfair? I could do whatever I wanted in a dream. I’d known from the second I first laid eyes on him that he was fit, so what was stopping me? It was that nagging guilt, that sense that even though it wasn’t real, even though he was just a fake version of a very fine boy that existed only in my own mind, I would still be betraying my best friend by doing anything. Yes, even if it was just in my imagination. So I did my friendship duty by keeping that imagination in check, and that’s why it was unfair.

I won’t lie, I also wanted so desperately to fix him. The real him, I meant. I wanted to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, that I’d pay proper attention to him and not push him into anything he wasn’t comfortable with. When I thought of what he’d been through since we started playing this game, I burned with jealous outrage; a part of me that I was desperately ashamed of couldn’t help but think that my best friend simply didn’t deserve this boy. But what was I going to do, steal him from her for his own good? No. I couldn’t.

“Never mind,” I said, shoving that train of thought well aside. “The point is, everything you’re telling me is really only me talking to myself, making up a story to keep my mind entertained while I’m asleep. I’ll wake up after a while, have a laugh over how silly all of this was, and go on with my life.”

“I’ll prove it to you. When you wake up, I mean.” He paused for a moment, meeting my eyes for the first time since our conversation began. “If you stay and talk.”

“You want me to talk to you?” My head spun, caught up in his gaze.

“Yeah.” He broke the fragile eye contact, looking down at the golden bricks as he gave a quick shrug. “I thought I wanted to be alone, but now that I am, I don’t know if that’s really the best idea right now. You’re here, and — unless you had something better to do?”

“No, that’s fine.” Yeah, I can have a conversation with the hot, forbidden boy in my head. That wouldn’t make me a loony friend-betrayer at all. Against my better judgment, I walked over and we sat down together, backs against the wall. “What did you want to talk about?”

* * *

I woke up flat on my back in the field. Everything hurt. I wished I could go back to sleep, because it had wound up being a nice dream after all. I’d talked to dream Tomas for what had felt like hours, pouring out my thoughts and anxieties into deep therapy with myself. When I’d spoken about my grandfather, my words had been rephrased back to me in the context of Tomas’s “brother,” A. I wasn’t sure whether this was sound psychotherapy or not, but I felt like it had helped.

After I picked myself up off the ground, I tested my limbs to make sure they all still worked. It seemed to be the case, aside from a lingering soreness on my bum where I’d fallen and the smarting in my chest from when I’d been head-butted. My laptop lay nearby, thankfully undamaged. But the phone that had been in my back pocket had a crack across the screen where I’d fallen on it — damn it, Starlightsprite!

As I contemplated how best to tell my sprite that I appreciated his concern but was very upset at the forced nap, not to mention the damage to my phone, the device in question lit up with a text notification. Moving on autopilot, I swiped against the cracked screen to open it. When I saw what it said, all thoughts of my sprite’s misdeeds fled my mind.

 **CulinaryArtisan:** How was Prospit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you didn't miss the bonus update(Chapter 30 - Alex) that went up last Saturday.
> 
> I have some headcanons about Sylphs. First, Sylphs fix things. That's their general role in the game, to be caretakers of whatever their aspect might be, setting it right again whenever it goes wrong. Second, they're associated with healing, both in regard to their aspect(see fixing) and in general hitpoint terms. And last, they're meddlesome. We saw this on full display with Aranea, but even Kanaya(and I say this with love, as she's on my favorite character shortlist) can't seem to stop fiddling around in other people's business. Sylphs just come with a compulsion to meddle, prod, and generally poke their nose into everything that doesn't concern them, because what if it needs fixing?
> 
> I guess I should also say some things about Hope as well. It was covered pretty well in the comic I think: infinite potential and possibilities. It's sort of like Life, but for ideas rather than actions. There's some crossover for sure. I also consider Hope to cover optimism and general positive emotion. As the counterpoint to Hope, Rage would be single-minded devotion to one idea or creed, negative emotions, and pessimistic certainty. That sounds pretty unpleasant. It's a good thing we don't have any Rage players in this story!
> 
> It's a shame we don't have a Sylph of Heart, though. Both teams really need one.


	32. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/30/20 update part 1 of 2

Waiting for this meeting to start made me nervous, which was silly because there was no reason to be. Everyone had been perfectly nice so far, except for that Alex guy who I hadn’t talked to yet. Honestly, meeting Natalya face to face had been a bit overwhelming, but even her wild grin had subsided to a mere smirk as we found seats.

This was Daniel’s house, Kayla had explained as she let us in. I remembered Daniel. We’d spoken briefly when he was looking for a pack of cigarettes for some design purpose. That had been odd, but he’d seemed pretty laid back and pleasant to talk to otherwise. Also, he wasn’t here right now. Apparently he was out with Alex on an adventure, and they were already three minutes late.

“I thought Daniel was the one in charge of time,” Charlie complained. I glanced over to where he sat in the lone armchair to my right, elbows and knees sticking out in an awkward, stiff way that matched his tone.

“The Heir of Time, yeah,” Kayla said. The short black girl had taken a seat on one of the sofas, at the end nearest the door. “That doesn’t mean he can’t lose track of time, unfortunately. I can text him again if you want.”

“Tell him I’ll wreck his house,” Natalya called out from the other end of the sofa I was sitting on, her long limbs pulled up to sit cross-legged in the corner. “I’ll find where he hid the booze and throw a party.”

And build half a dozen balconies while you’re at it, I joked back, but only in my head. I couldn’t actually say it. What if I was the only one who thought it was funny? It was better to just stay quiet. Look interested, follow the discussion, but keep my mouth shut unless I was asked a direct question. That sounded like a good plan for getting through this meeting.

At the sound of the front door unlocking, I looked over, watching as it opened to admit two guys, both about the same height. The first wore an over-sized jacket and baggy jeans, the effect overwhelming his skinny frame. Messy brown hair hung over an angular, light-brown face, eyes narrowed with the remnants of a laugh; apparently, something had just been funny. He was kinda cute, in a needing a haircut and a serious wardrobe makeover sort of way.

The guy entering behind him was Asian, with short, thick black hair. He was more solidly built, softer overall and with rounder, gentler features. He at least wore clothes that more or less fit: jeans and a light jacket over a Marvel t-shirt. He was cute too, in a more traditional way. I felt my cheeks heating up, and shook my head to clear the thoughts. I didn’t need to be checking out everyone who walked into the room, so stop it!

Comics shirt pulled the door closed behind him after he passed through, his eyes flicking over the assembled people as he reached behind himself to lock it. “You’re all here.”

“Sure are,” Kayla said, turning around to lean over the back of the sofa. “And you’re late.”

“We are not,” said messy hair, crossing his arms. The jacket hitched up to reveal a glint of metal at his belt, some kind of handgun.

“Yeah we are,” comics shirt replied, walking past him. “By about five minutes.”

“Right,” Kayla continued. “And it was pointed out that, as the Heir of Time, you should have a better handle on this sort of thing.”

“Dude, I’m sorry, but that’s not how any of this works.” Comics shirt — Daniel, must be — spread his hands, shrugging in a gesture of utter helplessness. “I’ll explain it one more time, since everyone’s here. I don’t pick when I get to go to, I just walk through the time gates. They send me exactly when I need to be, no sooner and no later. And apparently when I needed to be this time was five minutes late. I can’t explain it any clearer than that.”

“Right,” Kayla said in a flat tone, at the same time Natalya snorted with laughter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie shift position to my right, the subtle movement that I knew signaled his disapproval. I thought it made perfect sense, but nobody asked me.

“This is Jamie and Charlie.” I looked up again as Kayla introduced us. “And that’s Daniel — you’ve both met him on chat — and Alex, they’re the one who figured out the gates.”

There had been a subtle, but distinct, emphasis on that one word — they. Kayla had barreled on with the sentence, almost as if she was afraid to linger on it, but my ear had caught on that. I glanced over to Alex, my eyes widening as I realized that he — they? — were looking right at me. Their eyes were a medium brown, warm and open. One of their eyebrows slowly arched up, asking a silent question even as I realized I was staring. I quickly looked away, back over to Charlie, who was grumping silently from his armchair.

“We’ll grab drinks,” I heard Daniel say. Calls for a tea, a coffee, and a two teas rose up from around me, the latter saving me the need to put in a request for myself. The two of them moved past us into the kitchen, talking quietly between themselves. Only once they were gone and I was sure I wouldn’t accidentally trap myself in anyone else’s eyes did I look back up.

Natalya was staring at me, her pale green eyes unblinking. I jumped, not having expected that. I didn’t feel trapped by her eyes so much as searched by them, as if they were ransacking the inside of my mind for all my secret thoughts. After a few moments, she grinned, breaking eye contact and sitting back.

“Do you want a balcony in your bedroom?” she asked, her voice innocently sweet as she batted her eyelashes at me. I knew enough about her by now that my guard went up immediately at the sound of that tone.

“No?” I said, my voice croaking on the first word I’d uttered since I’d first arrived and said my quiet hellos to the two girls.

“Are you sure? They’re very romantic.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, entirely unsure how to respond to that. She smirked at me for a moment longer, then laughed, jumping to her feet.

“I’m going to help with drinks,” she announced, turning on her heel and striding off towards the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Kayla said, shooting me a sympathetic glance. “She can be, well, intense. I hope she hasn’t bothered you with anything.”

“It’s fine,” I said, shaking my head and trying my best to appear unconcerned. And I really wasn’t, at least not with Natalya. Honestly, I could handle the balconies and a few furniture mishaps. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Those other two though, that was — wow. I hadn’t been ready for that. I had to get my head straight if I was going to get through the rest of this meeting without making a fool of myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop the presses! What is this, actual character descriptions? We can't have any of that nonsense! I'm genuinely sorry it took so long to get around to describing some of these characters(I did try to throw little descriptions in where I could, aiming to depict race if nothing else), but it's hard when it's first person and everybody starts off on their own. In my defense, this is a real thing that happens when you meet internet friends in person for the first time. I'm just reflecting that reality in my art, so take that! And sorry if any headcanons got trampled.
> 
> Yes, there's two Time players, one for each team. Each team also has their own Space player, meaning that two aspects(Rage and Heart) are unused. Time is Space's counterpoint, one of the two fundamental aspects that combine to make the universe possible. There's a dozen metaphors you could choose from, but both Time players I'm working with here favor music. Daniel would explain that Space is the melody that goes along with the rhythm of Time, and Miyong would agree(and add her own metaphor involving dancing to Time). While Space handles beginnings, origination, conception, the big bang, and so on(also physical properties of things, almost as an afterthought), Time is conclusion, entropy, death(on the level of species, rather than the individual) and the end of all things. A primary responsibility of most Time players is the preservation of the timeline, ensuring that nobody(including themselves) causes a paradox. And, of course, they get to play with time travel. Fun!


	33. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/30/20 update part 2 of 2

“Dude,” Dan turned to me as we passed into the kitchen, speaking in a low tone only once we were out of view of the archway. “Don’t mess with him like that.”

“I wasn’t messing with him!” I protested, holding up my hands in defense. “I didn’t even do anything, he was the one who looked at me.”

“You wiggled your eyes at him and turned him red as a beet. I watched you do it.” Dan thrust a can of coffee into my hands and I busied myself scooping enough grinds into the machine for three cups. That was totally unfair. He’d already been pink under that mop of light brown curls before I’d had the chance to do anything at all. And sure, I’d been watching him, but I wasn’t the one who’d started all the serious eye contact.

“He’s cute though, you have to admit.” I pushed the button, stepping back to lean against the island counter.

“Which one?” Dan looked back at me as he put the water on the stove, burner cranked up to high.

“The storky one.” I snorted at the look on his face. “No. Which one do you think?”

“Don’t call him storky. That’s messed up.”

“But he is!” If Abraham Lincoln had the _To Kill a Mockingbird_ man’s fashion sense but came in deep brown instead of being a dead white guy, that would perfectly explain the awkwardly-lanky kid sitting in that chair in the other room. He even had the glasses for it, a pair of old-fashioned horn rims. “He’s all knees and elbows and, you know, storky. But I wasn’t even talking about him. I meant the other one, Jamie.”

“You’re right,” Dan admitted, smiling at the box of tea as he put it back in the cabinet. “He is.”

“He was checking you both out,” Nat announced as she barged her way into the kitchen to lean against the fridge. Things had been fine between us since that night. We’d had fun, and then we’d moved on. That was familiar ground, and I knew exactly how it worked. But this? This was weird. What was she getting at?

“He was looking, yeah,” I said, glancing to the coffee maker as it started spluttering into the pitcher. “But I don’t know that he meant anything by it. He seems shy.”

“He’s pretty quiet,” Dan confirmed. “Nice dude once you get him talking, but it’s like pulling teeth to get that far.”

“Besides,” I folded my arms, focusing my attention on Nat. “You don’t even know what he likes.”

“I know he likes cock.” She raised both eyebrows, mimicking my posture right back at me.

“You do not.” I rolled my eyes, letting my arms drop. She didn’t have to say it like that. I mean, it wasn’t the worst way she could have said it, but — ugh. It was weird.

“Yes I do. He has a porno book in his bedside table.”

“Wow Nat,” Dan pressed a hand to his brow. “That’s not cool, bro. You can’t just go snooping around through other people’s—”

“I didn’t!” She spread her arms, the perfect picture of innocence. “It fell out the window by accident, so I had to put it back. It wasn’t my fault the drawer opened. I was just cleaning it up!”

Yeah, an accident. Like I was gonna believe that. I locked eyes with Dan, exchanging a mutual look that confirmed it: she was totally full of shit. Also, it probably wasn’t worth the trouble to argue over it.

“So what’s your point?” I asked.

“My point,” she let her eyes linger first on me, then on Dan, as she spoke. “My point is, if you don’t get back in there soon, Kayla’s gonna tell him how much of a nerd you both are.”

She turned on the spot, an elegant movement spoiled by the squeaking of her bare foot on the kitchen floor, and sauntered back into the living room. What did I care if Kayla talked shit about me to Jamie? Did it really matter what he thought about me? It wasn’t like I was actually considering going for anything, right? I mean, I’d decided I was done with that, at least for a while. Those eyes though, clear and gray, it was like looking at clouds. Clouds with an adorable dimpled chin and a lush mess of curls.

“Do you think he’d care?” I leaned back against the counter again, looking over to Dan. “About the nerd thing, I mean.”

“He might.” Dan paused, his mouth drawing back in a wince. “Depends what she tells him about.”

“So we should hurry up and get back in there, then?”

Dan gave a tight-lipped nod, moving cups onto a tray at double time. I pulled the pitcher out a little too early — in my defense, it’d looked like it was done — and he tossed me a towel to mop up the mess. By the time I turned back around, he’d organized three cups of black coffee, three cups with little tea tags sticking out of them, creamer, a handful of sugar packets, and six spoons. If you only saw the end result, we actually seemed competent.

I let him carry it into the other room, as he was less likely to spill. Three faces turned to meet us as we entered; the last merely peeked from the corner of his eye. I didn’t want to tease him though, so I grabbed a coffee off the tray for myself and stepped away before Dan set it down on the table. Settling into the corner of the couch opposite Kayla, near where Nat sat, I focused on the cup of bitter caffeine. I usually took a sugar, but hadn’t remembered to grab one and wasn’t about to get up again now.

Nat reached over the gap between the two couches, snatching at my hands. I swatted her away, then raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Her gaze flicked between me and Jamie before she raised both eyebrows, eyes wide with implication. As I shook my head in a quick dismissal, her eyebrows rose even farther up than I’d thought possible. I shifted my grip on the cup, using it to shield my action from Kayla’s view as I extended a finger in the universal sign for “mind your own fucking business,” earning myself a snicker in response.

The cushions sank as Dan sat next to me, pressing something into my left hand. I looked over to him, taking the forgotten sugar packet with a nod of thanks. I ripped it open with my teeth, poured it into the cup, and stirred with the spoon Dan offered me after he was done using it in his own coffee.

“Okay, now that we’re all settled,” Kayla said, speaking up from her corner of the couch, past where Dan was sitting. “Thanks everyone for coming all the way over here, and Dan for offering his house. Let’s get this team meeting started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make sure you read chapter 32, part 1 of the double update. I'm not going to keep writing reminders, just check the chapter summary at the top of the page to see if there's multiple parts.
> 
> The [To Kill a Mockingbird man](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atticus_Finch) does have a name. Alex's grades were pretty garbage in lit class, so I'm not surprised they don't remember it, just like I'm not surprised they watched the movie instead of reading the book(this was, after all, a significant part of why their grades were garbage).
> 
> It wouldn't be Sburb if someone wasn't abusing their server privileges to snoop through someone else's stuff. Don't look through other people's porn though, Nat. So what if he likes to read gay erotica? It's none of your business, now shoo! She's totally shipping Alex/Jamie right now, though. If she wasn't the hero of Life, she'd have been Heart for sure. I feel like her and Nepeta would have gotten along really well, like shipping sisters.
> 
> Updates will continue through NaNoWriMo. I currently have enough in draft mode on AO3 to last until the end of the month, and by 10/31 I hope to be ready through the second week of December. This means that even if I can't bring myself to edit or write commentary because of writer blues, updates will continue as long as I'm capable of dragging myself online to push the publish button.


	34. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11/6/20 update

I sipped my tea as I listened to other people talk. Alex hadn’t done the thing with their eyes again, at least not so far. I honestly wasn’t sure if I was relieved that I wasn’t being looked at in front of everybody or disappointed because, well, I wasn’t being looked at. Daniel had given me a reassuring smile when things started getting underway, a warm expression that I knew exactly how to interpret. Other than that, I’d been keeping myself to myself and letting the others argue over details.

“Well if you knew what species it was, then why didn’t you say something?” Charlie’s voice was strained as he stared at Kayla. He’d been obsessing over the octopus that her sprite had been prototyped with since we’d arrived in the Medium. I hadn’t been able to figure its species out, but apparently Kayla had known the answer the entire time.

“You never asked.” She shrugged, staring at him in wide-eyed innocence.

“I did ask. You said you didn’t know.”

“Was I busy doing something else when you asked me?”

“Is that relevant?” Even I could tell that Charlie was making a mess of this. Should I say something? Probably. I reached up to adjust glasses that weren’t there — a nervous habit — fingertips brushing the edge of my brow before I snatched them away. My new contacts were making me look stupid again, that was just great.

“Yes,” Kayla said, raising an eyebrow. Oh well, I’d missed the window anyway. “Very. Anyway, I can tell you everything you need to know about it later. I don’t believe we have anything to worry about, anyway. The sprites seem to be mentors of some kind. I don’t think they’ll hurt us.”

Alex snorted, shooting Kayla an incredulous look. She frowned to them, shaking her head. What was that all about?

“Yours is awful for another reason altogether. That’s not what I was talking about. Charlie was asking about the likelihood of our prototypings being turned against us—”

“Not just through the acts of our sprites,” Charlie said, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward, “but also through the powers bestowed upon the imps, ogres, and other creatures who inhabit this place.”

“Which is a good point, and definitely why I’m going to get that species fact sheet out of the binder. I hope it’s not too water-damaged to make out.”

“Even if it is,” Daniel spoke up, “running the code through the Design-it might fix it. Might not, but it’s worth a shot. I ran a pair of old socks through and it fixed all the holes.”

Kayla nodded, but before she could speak again she was interrupted by the arrival of one of the aforementioned sprites. It was a hulking form, clad in all-too-familiar armor, though with a rather silly pair of floppy bunny ears sticking out of the helmet. This must be the Mister Thanossprite I’d heard about.

It had been comforting to hear the theory about sprites being hard coded not to hurt us because, well, he wasn’t one you’d cross. I admit I felt relieved when he phased away through the exterior wall, presumably to go patrol for monsters. That was what my sprite did anyway, always conjuring up that rowboat to go “whale” hunting. How far would Mister Thanossprite take it, though? Surely he wouldn’t. Would he?

“What if he uses the snap?” My question surprised even myself, slipping from my lips before I’d had the chance to realize it was happening and stop it. Everybody stared at me, as if they’d forgotten I could talk.

“What snap?” Charlie asked. Ah, of course he didn’t know. He was probably the one person in the entire world who hadn’t seen any of the Avenger movies. Thankfully, Daniel saved me having to explain.

“Thanos wields the Infinity Gauntlet, which is basically god mode. In the movie, he uses it to kill half the universe with a snap of his fingers.”

“Hypothetically speaking,” Charlie said into the sudden silence, “were this to transpire, half of the universe would include us, correct?”

“Yes, but dude,” Daniel either ignored or didn’t notice the twitch in Charlie’s eye as he said that, “he’s not gonna snap us. Like Kayla said, sprites are here to help the players, not hurt us. It goes against the programming or whatever.”

“What about the monsters? Surely none of them are constrained by such benevolent philosophy.”

“I’ve only ever seen three types,” Kayla spoke up, her voice cutting through the rising tension. “Iron Man, Captain America and Thor, right?”

“Right,” Daniel confirmed. “The Gauntlet was probably saved for one special character. You know, like the game’s playing fair and not just giving us an instant lose because we made one mistake.”

“How did such a mistake even happen?”

“Man,” Daniel shook his head to Charlie. “I don’t know what information you had about this before you started, but the game just sorta dropped us in there. All we knew was what was in the trailer, some vague stuff about customizing your experience. Like if you want a superhero campaign, you have to throw in something about superheroes. How were we supposed to know about the hidden features?”

“How were you supposed to know?” I cringed inside as Charlie spoke, knowing this was about to blow up into a whole big thing. “You could have read the manual. That’s how I knew.”

“There was a manual?” Alex said, tilting their head. “Mine didn’t have a manual.”

“Yeah, I don’t remember anything about a manual.” Kayla frowned.

“There was totally a manual.” I jumped a little as Natalya, who I’d forgotten was even there, piped up from the other side of me. “It was on the website.”

“Seriously?” Kayla sighed. “Why didn’t you tell any of us about it?”

“Who reads the fucking manual anyway?” Natalya shrugged, staring around as if daring anyone to challenge her on that. Charlie might. I glanced over, noting the set of his jaw as he stared at her. She wasn’t helping to defuse the situation at all.

“Dudes, it doesn’t matter.” Dan shook his head, giving a half shrug as he spoke up. “What’s done is done, can’t change the past. What we can change is what we do next.”

“Didn’t you have some idea about what to do with the sprites?” Kayla asked Charlie, apparently not realizing that he was upset. I watched as he took a deep breath, swallowing his irritation before replying.

“I did. Circumstances have not changed the proposed course of action, though I suggest we proceed with a proper degree of caution this time.” He paused, looking around the room pointedly before he continued. “Only prototypings committed prior to entry into the Medium appear to transfer to the enemies we face, unless there have been any bunny-eared imps hopping around that I need to know about. In contrast, prototypings committed after entry empower only our sprites, allowing them to better defend our homes and lands. I propose we take full advantage of that fact.”

A sea of heads nodded around the room, my own with them. It was a good plan. He’d sounded it out on me yesterday, and I’d had a hard time imagining any objection.

“What should we use?” Kayla asked.

“Guns,” Natalya spoke up before anyone else had the chance to, draining her coffee and setting the cup on the table in front of her. “AK-47.”

“You have an AK-47?” Kayla’s eyebrows rose so high I thought they might jump right off her face.

“Two.” Natalya sat back in her seat, a smug smirk spreading across her face.

“Can I shoot them?” Alex asked, leaning over the arm of the couch, but Natalya’s attention was pulled away by Charlie.

“We need more than that. I count five sprites that still require second-tier prototyping.”

“Four,” she corrected him, then waved over the arm of the couch toward the Alchemiter. “So we make more. It’s not a problem.

“So,” Kayla said, clearly attempting to recover control of the situation, “the proposal is to equip our sprites with automatic assault rifles so they can better keep us safe. I admit I’m nervous about the idea, but I understand the need to have an advantage. I suppose we should put it to a vote. All those in favor of second-tier prototyping the remaining sprites and not letting Alex anywhere near those guns—”

“Hey!”

“—raise your hand.”

Five hands went up around the circle, some more hesitantly than others. I waited until Charlie’s was on its way up before raising my own. Alex’s stayed stubbornly in their lap as they stared Kayla down, only raising an unenthusiastic hand to shoulder height after everybody else’s had already risen.

“Under objection,” I heard them mutter as Dan clapped their other shoulder, chuckling quietly.

“That’s settled, then.” Kayla nodded. “Natalya, can you make the extra guns and distribute them to be prototyped?”

“Sure. But I won’t stop Alex from shooting it. It’s very fun.”

Alex leaned over, holding their hand up for a high-five. Natalya swung hard; when Alex pulled back, their expression was torn between a triumphant smirk and a wince of pain.

“Whatever.” Kayla sighed. “Just do it on your own Land, and don’t come crying to me if anyone gets shot. On to other business! I know some of you have been questing together, and that’s good. My sprite suggests that’s the intended way for the game to be played, so we should be teaming up and helping each other as much as possible. On that note, does anyone need help?”

I blinked, the question so unexpected that it snuck right past my guard — of course I don’t need help, I don’t even know these people! — and landed in a place of serious consideration. Was I in over my head? It felt like it, most of the time. I was literally blundering around through darkness that my torch could barely penetrate, collecting lost texts. The latter half of that was much more fun than the other. I can’t say I really needed help with the work though, unless someone around here knew where the bloody light switch was.

“If nobody else has anything,” Kayla broke the silence, “I’ve got something. I’d like some people to help me collect puzzle pieces on my land. It’s not that I need help so much as, well,” she paused, a sheepish smile growing on her face, “it’s really boring by myself. So does that sound like fun to anyone?”

“What was your land again?” Natalya asked, leaning forward.

“The Land of Islands and Currents.” A smile lit up Kayla’s face as she turned to look to the other girl.

“Mostly currents,” Alex said. “I only saw the one island.”

“There’s more than one,” Kayla said, her smile fading as she looked back to Natalya. “What is it?”

“I can’t swim,” the other girl admitted with a shrug as she settled back into the corner. “Sorry, Kay.”

“I can swim,” Alex said, balancing their cup on the arm of the couch. “And dive, too.”

“Alright,” Kayla said, hesitating on the word for a moment. She seemed thrown off by the sudden turn in the conversation. Shaking her head, as if to dismiss some lingering thoughts, she looked over to where Charlie and I sat. “What about you two? I’d love to have you both over, you know, to get to know you better. I’d be happy to help out around your lands, too.”

That honestly made me more than a little nervous. But would it be so bad? It seemed like fairly low-pressure work, and I think she’d understand if I wanted to be on my own sometimes. I couldn’t stay cooped up on my own land forever, after all. This could be a good first step; I knew from experience those were always the hardest, when it came to getting to know strangers. Just as I’d made up my mind and opened my mouth to reply, Charlie spoke.

“I can’t swim either,” he said, dashing my fragile plans to pieces. “I’m sure you can manage without our help.”

Kayla glanced to me, as if for confirmation. I closed my mouth and gave a little shrug, not really knowing what to say. And now it was awkward. I bit my lip, avoiding her gaze; as my eyes flicked to my left, I found myself trapped once again by Alex’s stare. This time it was more intense, their head tilted to the side with their lips slightly parted in a distracted frown, as if they were trying to figure something out.

Caught even deeper in their eyes than last time, I realized I couldn’t look away. It was like they were holding me there, imprisoned by some force I didn’t understand. I caught a whiff of a strange scent, as if it was about to rain, and for some reason Charlie’s words — “without our help” — were stuck in my head, his decisive tone echoing through my mind. And then I was free, crashing my shins into the coffee table as I leaped to my feet.

Everyone stared at me as the drink tray clattered, skittering away from the impact. I grimaced, reaching down to steady the dishes before they fell off and broke. A sharp pain pulsed up my legs from the point of impact, right beneath my knees; it would leave a bruise for sure. Was everybody still staring at me? Probably. I glanced up, directly into Kayla’s concerned eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

No, nothing was wrong. I jump up into tables like that all the time. It’s a hobby of mine. Well, I certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud! But they were all looking at me, so I had to say something. I rubbed the sore spot on my legs to buy a little time, but there was nothing else for it. Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth to reply.

“I was on swim team in school.”

What. I hadn’t meant to say that! I’d meant to say no and then sit the hell back down. Where had those words come from? Kayla blinked at me, an expression of deep confusion spreading across her face. I mean, it was true. I had swum for school in years ten and eleven. We’d even come in second in regionals that last year, which was kind of cool. But I hadn’t intended to tell everyone that!

“But I can’t swim,” came Charlie’s voice from behind me, a tense warning in his emphasis of the second word. I glanced back to his narrowed eyes, not angry exactly, but troubled. Oh no. This wasn’t what he thought! I might not know what on earth my mouth was doing without my permission, but I did know I wasn’t trying to ditch him.

“You can stay in the cave and help me put the puzzles together, then!” Kayla brought her hands together, the light clap drawing both our gazes back to her. “It’ll work out perfectly, because with four of us we can keep a buddy system and not have to worry about anybody getting ambushed on their own.”

This was more than I’d meant to sign up for, but it seemed like the situation had a mind of its own at this point. I nodded to her, carefully avoiding Charlie’s accusatory gaze.

“Do you, uh, want to sit back down?” As she spoke again, I realized I was still standing. Of course I wanted to sit back down! I did so, plopping down into the cushions.

“Sorry,” I muttered, though I wasn’t sure I’d said it loud enough for her or anyone else to hear. Daniel was talking — something about his little sister — but my mortified heartbeat filled my ears, making it impossible to focus on what he was saying. What was wrong with me today?

Doing my best to avoid everyone’s eyes, I settled for watching the near edge of the coffee table, running my gaze back and forth along the grain of the rounded, polished wood. After a moment, I got that feeling that someone was watching me again. I angled my head just slightly, peeking out of the corner of my eye. Damn, it was Alex again. Those same eyes, and that same tilt of the head. Except this time, their expression wasn’t of confusion; it was of satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am the only person in the entire western pop culture world who hasn't seen any of the Avenger movies. Charlie is me. Everything I know about Avengers is from reading wikipedia and encountering Fat Thor and Mr Stark memes.
> 
> One might ask why Natalya has a random AK-47 sitting around. The answer, of course, is that it was her mother's. One might also ask why her mother had two. And the answer to that would be, what's a girl without her backup gun? Burkova girls are...interesting...to write sometimes, especially when it comes to the stashes of semi-antiquated("retro"?) firearms they tend to hoard. And then Natalya goes and ruins the whole mother-daughter riflekind vibe by playing the Witcher games and deciding she wants to literally be Geralt of Rivia...as I said, Burkova girls are interesting.
> 
> Sometimes it's difficult that Jamie is so passive. It's weird to write an entire chapter where the point of view character barely speaks, just listens and worries about the possibility of speaking. I hope it's not too weird to read it.


	35. Alice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11/13/20 update

I hid under the weighted blanket, my phone screen illuminating the little cave with a ghostly glow. I’d made a terrible mistake; the long, cold night I’d just endured had made that abundantly clear. Also, I had to pee like nothing else, but I refused to even consider what my options were with regard to that. What was this, medieval times? I refused to use the pot, or worse, to dangle my bottom over the edge of the tower!

I squinted at the screen, bringing the blurry picture a little more into focus. My contacts were safely stowed in their case, which thankfully I always carried with me in my purse, but I only had the one pair and no extra solution. Hopefully somebody would rescue me before I had to put them back in, because the last thing I needed right now was an eye infection.

As chilling as that idea was, I was confident my mistake would work itself out before it came to that, although things were moving frustratingly slowly. My Bard refused to play along with the prophecy, and my best friend wasn’t being very supportive at all. She even had the nerve to lecture me. Yeah, Miss Judgey-pants, who got to sleep in her own warm bed last night, sure had a lot to say about the matter.

 **PrincessAmor:** That’s not fair b  
 **ArtemisArcher:** Is it not? Really?  
 **PA:** Ya  
 **PA:** This bed’s cold and hard and loud  
 **PA:** Don’t tell me it’s easy  
 **AA:** That isn’t what I said.  
 **PA:** Not a hardship* w/e  
 **AA:** That also isn’t what I said. If you’d just listen to me instead of putting the words you expect to hear into my mouth, I said it wasn’t a hardship forced upon you. You chose it.  
 **PA:** Nuh uh  
 **PA:** Consent doesn’t count if u were tricked  
 **AA:** How exactly were you tricked?  
 **PA:** One way portals  
 **PA:** And my bard won’t come  
 **AA:** As I recall, the prophecy was rather obvious: the maiden will be stuck in the tower until the Bard comes. What part of being stuck in the tower wasn’t clear to you?  
 **PA:** I should be able to take it back  
 **PA:** Like a lemon law  
 **AA:** It’s a tower, not an automobile. Lemon laws don’t apply in this case.  
 **AA:** And to your other point, I wasn’t there to witness it myself, so I’m going to ask you straight: when you spoke to Tomas, did or did he not state that he had no intention to come to your land just yet?  
 **PA:** Ugh  
 **PA:** Ya BUT  
 **PA:** He was supposed to change his mind  
 **PA:** They always do in the third act  
 **PA:** Just when the climax is most dire  
 **AA:** Ali oh my god!  
 **AA:** Are you listening to yourself talk right now? Life isn’t one of your harlequin romances! There is no third act, or climax, or any of that. Real life doesn’t follow the pacing of novels.  
 **AA:** We’re real people, with real feelings. Feelings you hurt deeply because you treated him like he was a character from a book! How do you not understand how messed up that was?  
 **PA:** He’s just mad at me  
 **PA:** He’ll get over it  
 **AA:** No, he’s not just mad, and no, he won’t. He’s not in a good place right now because of what happened with his “brother,” and you’ve heaped even more misery on top of that. I’d say I didn’t know how he was holding it together, but I won’t, because the truth is that he hasn’t been. And yes, it is your fault.  
 **PA:** I didn’t kill his bro  
 **AA:** You didn’t do anything to help him feel better about it, either.  
 **PA:** What am I supposed to do from here?  
 **PA:** I said I’d give him a hug  
 **AA:** And then immediately bothered him to come be your Bard again. Your timing on that sucked, Ali.  
 **PA:** Wait  
 **PA:** How’d u know about that?  
 **AA:** Because he told me.

I sat bolt upright, the blanket falling away from me as the wind caught my hair, blowing it every which way. For once, I didn’t even care. She’d been talking to him? Why was he suddenly talking to all these other girls, after days of blowing off my phone calls? That was so not cool, even if we’d had a fight! And of all people, it was my best friend.

 **PA:** B that hurts  
 **PA:** Y would u do that?  
 **AA:** Do what? I’m confused.  
 **PA:** Ur talking to him  
 **PA:** He won’t even talk to me  
 **PA:** And ur talking to him  
 **PA:** About us  
 **PA:** Not cool b  
 **AA:** Excuse me? Ali, I can talk to my friends.  
 **PA:** He’s not ur friend though  
 **AA:** Perhaps not yet, but I think I’d like him to be. He’s very nice to talk to. We share a dream moon, Prospit, so that’s where we met up.  
 **PA:** Omg ur dreaming together?  
 **PA:** Bf and bff  
 **PA:** U know what that means  
 **AA:** I resent that implication. Ali, you know I would never do that to you, not ever. Think past your stories and use your head. We’re human beings with free will, and my free will would never cheat with my best friend’s guy, not ever. I don’t care how many times it’s been written. I am not a plotline.  
 **PA:** B u know boys and girls can’t just be friends  
 **PA:** It’s always weird  
 **PA:** U might not want it to be  
 **PA:** But it just happens  
 **AA:** That’s incredibly unfair. Just because two people are capable of being attracted to each other doesn’t mean anything will happen. Yes, the two of us are theoretically compatible, in the broadest sense. But just because it’s possible doesn’t mean it’s something that will happen. It’s not “weird” when I talk to you, is it?  
 **PA:** Of course not  
 **AA:** And do you or do you not remember the many conversations we’ve had regarding the appeal of Gal Gadot?  
 **PA:** “conversations”  
 **AA:** Exactly. I’m sure I’ve written a small novel at you by now. But the point is, just because I find some women attractive doesn’t mean I find all women attractive. So, we can be friends without it being “weird.” And I assure you, it works exactly the same way with men.

I tilted my head, tucking my hair behind my ear. She had a point. I’d forgotten about that. Okay fine, but that still didn’t make everything alright.

 **PA:** Maybe ur right  
 **PA:** For u at least  
 **PA:** But idk about this other girl  
 **AA:** Do you mean Yana? I haven’t had the opportunity to speak to her much, but Ali, listen to me. I think you’re way off on this one. You could probably patch this up, if you wanted to. I can help you fix this.  
 **PA:** Patch this up?  
 **PA:** Like u can get him to come here?  
 **AA:** No, Ali. Step one is to stop talking about anything related to Bards, towers, or this prophecy of yours.  
 **PA:** That’s easy for u to say  
 **PA:** Ur not up here  
 **AA:** You walked up there of your own volition. You made a choice, and are dealing with the consequences of that choice.  
 **PA:** That is such bs  
 **PA:** I made a mistake  
 **PA:** And now I’m a hostage  
 **PA:** Are u gonna help or not?  
 **AA:** I said I was willing to help, but you need to work with me. So far, you’re not working with me. You need to let go of this fixation so we can work on healing the damage, and then we can worry about getting you out of that tower.  
 **PA:** Ugh  
 **PA:** How long is this gonna take  
 **AA:** It could take a while, and it’s going to be hard work. The impression I get is that he’s very kind-hearted and wants the best for everybody, but he’s been hurt very deeply by everything that’s happened. I don’t believe he wants you to suffer, but right now it’s like coaxing a kitten who got kicked out of the safety of its little basket. It might take some days.  
 **PA:** Days?  
 **PA:** I can’t wait days  
 **PA:** Just talk to him for me B  
 **AA:** Alice, it’s not that simple. Please listen to me. The words have to come from you, not from me. This isn’t something I can do for you.

I muted my phone, too stressed out to deal with that right now. She wanted me to wait days? Well, I could tell you that wasn’t happening. I tossed my phone lightly toward the end of my bed, wanting to put some distance between myself and the offending object. As it tumbled away from me, a fierce gust ripped through the open room.

“No! No, no, no—!” My frantic words were swept away by the wind, having no effect other than to add to the force which snatched my phone, sweeping it away through the archway. I pulled myself over to the edge of the tower, staying low so I wouldn’t fall. It was a long way down, much too far to spot something as small as a phone. But I didn’t have to see it to know it was gone.

My face burned, my heart beating an anxious staccato in my chest as I sat back. I was really in trouble now. I hadn’t meant for that to happen! Like everything else that had led me to this point, it had just been a dumb mistake, one more in the never-ending chain. Why couldn’t I catch a freaking break?

I was stuck here with no way to contact my best friend, who was siding against me with my boyfriend, who was putting his desire to keep questing with some other girl in front of my personal safety. What if I’d fallen, instead of my phone? That could have been my head splattered in a million pieces on the ground below! Maybe my father had been right about him.

I shuddered at that thought, the horror of it creeping over me. I never thought I’d admit that man might have been right about something. I’d only started flirting with Tomas because my father explicitly told me not to have anything to do with “that Munoz boy.” As if he got to tell me what to do! I was old enough to make my own decisions, thank you very much. It wasn’t my fault he’d wanted to keep up social appearances. At least, that’s what I’d thought his objection was at the time.

But what if it hadn’t been about that? What if he’d known that something like this would happen? He’d always seemed to know a lot of things he shouldn’t, like what I was up to whenever I was trying to skirt his dumb rules. So what if he’d told me not to talk to Tomas, all so I wouldn’t wind up in this tower? But then wouldn’t I have died back on Earth? I shook my head, catching my hair and trying in vain to put it back in place. This was giving me a headache, just like it always did whenever I tried to untangle my father’s labyrinthine thought processes.

And on top of everything else, I still really, really had to pee. Like, this wasn’t even an option anymore; I was gonna burst if I had to hold it any longer. This was so stupid! I pulled myself to my feet and wiggled back over to the bed, kneeled down to look beneath it, and pulled the heavy pot out. I really didn’t want to do this, but I couldn’t see how I had any choice in the matter. Everybody else was off pretending to be adventurers, and here I was, squatting over a bowl. The only good thing about this tower was that, despite my utter lack of dignity, nobody could see me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Nice going, butterfingers.
> 
> [Gal Gadot](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gal_Gadot) played Wonder Woman a couple years back. I'm sure everybody already knew that, but I have to source my references for the clueless who might be reading. Oh, you know, like me. I haven't seen that movie, and sure as hell didn't know who played the character until I looked it up. But that DVD cover was what immediately came to mind when I thought of who Bridget would have a lesbian crush on, so that's where that came from. Also, wow, those are some Sylph pants on fire right there.
> 
> Alice really isn't as dumb as she comes across sometimes. Self-centered actions aside, her issue is mainly that she's both incredibly stubborn and extremely wrong genre savvy. That's part of why I find her to be a compelling character to write. What happens when a character insists on treating an adventure story like it's a romance? I don't know. Let's find out.


	36. Miyong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11/20/20 update part 1 of 2

I waited, motionless between two boulders, as the monster approached. This was no imp, small enough for a man to hold in his arms. No, this variety was new, and much more fearsome. It towered more than twice my height, characterized by a broad chest and powerfully muscled legs and hindquarters. As ever, the mix of magical girl and centaur was profoundly disturbing, particularly the empty eyes that stared out over the war-torn landscape.

While this larger monster carried no gun, the thick vest and horse armor it wore concerned me. I realized it might be more difficult to take this one down compared to the smaller imps, which had stood no chance against the Blades of Eternity. One solid strike and they were helpless, frozen in place as I drained them dry. Then they would fall, their bodies crumbling to grist even before they hit the ground. I almost felt sorry for them. Almost, but not quite. They were only game constructs, after all.

While these monsters seemed to spawn non-hostile, I’d learned that striking from ambush, while they were unaware of my presence, still granted me the advantage. And so I waited as its lumbering steps moved closer. It would pass beneath my position in just a few short seconds, and then I would end this. I could hear it breathing now, a harsh, heavy panting. Almost there. Just a little closer — now!

I leapt from my hiding spot, my feet skittering over the cloth covering its broad back as I landed; just as I’d suspected, the vest was armored. As I fell, I drove my blade into the gap between the vest and the horse armor, where human met horse. A terrible sound rose through the air, a cross between a horse’s whinny and a girl’s scream, as it reared up onto its hind legs. I dangled for one horrible moment, struggling to raise my other arm to finish the connection.

And then I was flying forward, up against its human back, as it came back to the ground with a thud. The impact jolted through my entire body, but somehow I didn’t let go, though my arm throbbed as if it had been wrenched half out of its socket. Before it could move to shake me off again, I struck, burying my second blade just inches away from the first.

Power surged through me, banishing the ache from my wrenched arm and filling my body with an electric tingle. Any lingering weakness was gone, for the moment at least. I was the hunter, this beast was my prey, and I would drain it until — it bucked, throwing me over the top of its head. I spun through the air, landing in a heap on the ground.

Stolen energy so infused me that I hadn’t even felt the impact. I pushed myself to my feet, hands clenched tight around the blades — luckily, I hadn’t dropped them — and circled the monster. It faltered, wounded but not yet defeated. I knew I had to finish this before it collected itself. Reaching for the energy that threatened to overflow inside of me, I raced forward, ducking beneath its hooves as it reared, and struck up into its belly.

It screamed again as my blades entered unarmored flesh, shuddering above me as the last of its potential Time flowed through the blades and into me. I yanked the swords free and darted from beneath as it started to fall. The ground shook with the impact, grist orbs exploding outward as the corpse vanished.

I took a deep breath, centering myself as I turned to collect my spoils. I couldn’t stop shaking, not from the familiar weakness but from the raw power that now coursed through my veins. I’d thought I was used to this feeling, but that wasn’t true. This new monster had held so much more; in comparison, the imps were barely a snack. I knew the sensation would subside in time, but until then I could hardly walk straight.

I found a convenient rock and sat down heavily, resting my hands in my lap. I’d just take a break for now, at least until the world stopped feeling like it had been run through an overly sharp photo filter. Sburb chores would be a good use of my time, like that building project on LOWAT, though I doubted I could make much headway. There just wasn’t the grist for it.

I pulled my laptop out of my backpack, requiring a few attempts before I managed to grasp the lid and get it open. After logging in, I was greeted to a view of Alice’s empty apartment. I’d been playing with things over the past days, stretching the limited starter cache of grist as far as I could take it. The problem was, the gate was so far up, and the flat rooftop did me no favors. There was also only so much I could delete to give myself extra grist to work with. I was no architect, but every wall seemed like it was probably important! If I deleted the wrong ones, the entire structure could come crashing down, and then we’d be even worse off.

Bridget had shared a screenshot of some clever work she’d done with fencing and pillars on LOMAO, but I found my own attempts frustrated by the lack of cheap building options. The game would only allow me to clone existing objects, and nothing in this luxury apartment came cheap. I’d managed to build a small platform of the least expensive material I could find — some wood paneling — but it hadn’t covered even a quarter of the distance while taking up more than half my available grist, so I’d stopped in the hope that inspiration might strike.

What good had that done? It had been days since then, and I still hadn’t managed to come up with any good ideas. Regardless, I paged up to the roof, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to stare at it a while. At least that way I could say I’d tried, rather than simply declaring the task to be impossible. As my camera panned up to the roof, my eyes widened. Somebody was up there!

A teenage boy in a military camouflage tank top and cargo shorts knelt on the platform I’d built, stacks of logs and bundles of leafy plant matter surrounding him on the roof. He was bent over a rudimentary construction site, complete with carpentry tools and everything. I watched as he stood up, stretched his back out, and rested his hands on his head, running them over his short brown buzz cut.

Who was that? Why was he there? How had he even gotten down there safely? The gate was so high! Questions flooded my mind and I shook my head, trying to clear them for the sake of my own sanity. One at a time. Who was he? Well, unless other humans were here on our planets — which I’d seen no indication of — he had to be one of us. There were only two boys here, so was it Tomas or Greg? He could be either of them, and I had no idea which.

I searched my mind, trying to remember every scrap of information I held about the strangers I was playing with. A baseball bat leaned against the low platform I’d built; the sports gear stood out against the rest of the supplies, marking it as a point of interest. Which one of them used a baseball bat as a weapon? I didn’t know that, either. I knew next to nothing about any of these people, just names and a few very basic details.

I pulled out my phone, checking my contacts. Three of my team members were online, while two — Tomas and Alice — were showing offline. If it was Tomas working down there, he might have turned off his phone because he was busy. Or maybe it was turned off because he was asleep, so that would mean it was Greg who was — oh no, that didn’t look like a stable construction at all. He probably couldn’t see it from where he was standing, but my bird’s eye view spelled out trouble. I had to say something, and I really only had the one option. Either I was right, or I was wrong, but either way I’d be making my best attempt to avert the impending catastrophe. I clicked on Greg’s name, typing out a quick message.

 **NascentKinesia:** i have a question that might be weird.  
**NK:** are you on lowat?

I watched as the guy on the screen stopped trying to balance two poles against each other — it just wasn’t going to happen, anyone could see that — and pulled a phone out of his back pocket. He looked at the screen and tapped a reply out, relief filling me as I realized my guess had been correct.

 **CaptainWalker:** Who told you I was on LOWAT?  
**NK:** nobody. i’m watching you on the roof right now.  
**CW:** Oh right  
**CW:** I forgot you’re her server player  
**CW:** How long have you been watching me?  
**NK:** 5 minutes, why?  
**CW:** No reason, that’s fine  
**CW:** Everything’s cool  
**CW:** What’s up?

I raised an eyebrow at my phone, even though he couldn’t see me. It was blatantly obvious that he’d been doing something that I wasn’t supposed to have seen, and I wanted so badly to know what. I got the feeling he wasn’t going to tell me, though. I’d do better to ask a question he might actually answer.

 **NK:** what are you doing?  
**CW:** Building a scaffold to get up to the gate  
**NK:** it’s not going to work like that.  
**NK:** if you don’t make the base more solid it’ll fall over as soon as somebody tries to climb it.  
**CW:** Yes, I know  
**CW:** I’m working on it, ok?  
**CW:** I didn’t realize anyone would be judging me before I was done

He scowled, apparently forgetting again that I could see him. Well, sorry for trying to help! Shoving his hands into his pockets, he stalked back and forth across the roof, scuffing the toe of his shoe against the concrete as he paced. After he’d made a few laps, he shook his head, going back to the phone.

 **CW:** How are you feeling?

How was I feeling? I was still sort of buzzy. I didn’t know if this was what being high was like, this feeling like I was packed so full of potential energy that I might just burst apart at the seams. It was fading, dissipating ever so slowly as I sat here. But I wasn’t back to normal yet, and I didn’t think I would be for a while. Not after taking in so much so quickly.

But of course what he’d actually meant was: are you still sick? I didn’t feel sick, that was for sure. The weakness in my limbs had been replaced by raw power, and the uneven pulse of my heart by this rapid, electrified beating. I wasn’t entirely certain I was well, that was for sure. I can’t say I felt good, but I didn’t feel bad either. I guess I felt different?

 **NK:** better.  
**CW:** Are you sure?  
**CW:** You were passed out for a long time  
**CW:** I was really worried  
**NK:** thank you but i’m okay. :)

Maybe a lie. No, who was I kidding? It was definitely a lie. But he didn’t need to know that. It was time to talk about something else, anything else.

 **NK:** how did you get to lowat with all that stuff?  
**CW:** I have my ways  
**CW:** It wasn’t easy, but I got the job done  
**CW:** And soon nobody will have to worry about it

Sure, as long as the construction wasn’t a deathtrap. I still had my doubts regarding that, but I kept them to myself so he wouldn’t start angrily pacing the rooftop again.

 **CW:** You should come over to LOFAR sometime  
**NK:** lofar?  
**CW:** That’s my land, Ferns and Redwoods  
**CW:** It’s all Jurassic  
**CW:** Pretty awesome  
**CW:** Do you like trees?

What kind of a question was that? I didn’t particularly like trees, nor did I dislike them; I was entirely indifferent regarding the subject of trees. Wasn’t everybody?

 **NK:** they’re ok i guess?  
**CW:** Oh ok well the ferns are nice too  
**CW:** And there’s lots of leaves  
**CW:** Do you like leaves?

What the hell?

 **NK:** yeah sure.

Anything to make him stop asking weird questions.

 **CW:** Awesome, so you’ll come over?  
**NK:** i have a lot to do here.  
**CW:** Aw, come on  
**CW:** It’ll be fun  
**CW:** I’ll show you around all the cool places  
**CW:** I don’t know if you’ve seen those big bastards walking around  
**CW:** You know, the ones with crazy defense?  
**CW:** I’m calling them ogres, because they’re big and ugly  
**CW:** It took ages, but I beat one down this morning  
**CW:** I can show you how I did it when you get here, it was insane

It really hadn’t been as difficult as he was making it out to be. I wasn’t about to say that though, not on top of criticizing his construction skills. A man’s pride could only take so much. I sighed, tapping my heel against the boulder I sat on. I didn’t really want to meet up, but clearly it was important to him. Well, it’s not like it was going to do any harm, right?

 **NK:** okay. not today though.  
**CW:** That’s fine, today doesn’t work for me either  
**CW:** Lots to do today  
**CW:** Soon, though?  
**NK:** sure.  
**NK:** good luck.

He was going to need it, if he had any hope of turning that mess of supplies into a structure that wouldn’t topple over as soon as the land lived up to its name. I closed the laptop, granting him privacy in his endeavor. Looking out over the rusted sky of my land, I leaned back on my hands. I would be good to walk again soon, as long as I didn’t steal any more power for a while.

I’d come so far already, in just the short time I’d been here. I never would have dreamed I could have faced that beast down, or survived being thrown like that. It kind of scared me. But part of me was thrilled, excited by what else might be waiting for me here. My sprite had spoken of destiny, and at the time I hadn’t understood. Now, I thought I did. It was out there, just waiting for me to take it. And it felt incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think of each different type of monster in sburb as having a combat type specialty. The imps are basic minions, scary at the start but trash by the time you've gained a few levels. They might not even have some of the fancier powers that higher level monsters do. Ogres are the early game tanks, bigger and stronger with a lot of HP, and focused around defense. What might we see in the future with basilisks, giclopses, and other custom baddies? Wait and find out.
> 
> Thieves steal their aspect to benefit themselves. It's pretty straightforward in concept. A recurring theme among Thieves in canon is that they once had their aspect but lost it, and find themselves lacking the aspect in their lives at the time the game begins. A headcanon of mine is that the loss of their aspect is the fault of the Thief in some way, for example when Vriska lost her luck and insider knowledge after her magic cue ball exploded. Yes, I know Terezi technically made that happen, but Vriska started the whole mess and was therefore the indirect cause. #vriskadideverythingwrong


	37. Greg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11/20/20 update part 2 of 2

Whoever said being a hero had anything to do with glory could take that cheerful little thought and shove it up their ass. My patience was starting to wear very thin. First, this stupid game called me a girl. That’s messed up. We have neutral terms like “servant” for a reason. There was no need to make a point of being insulting.

But that brought me to the next problem, which was that the concept in general was demeaning. Why did anyone have to be a servant at all? I got if everyone had some kind of work-based thing going on, but that wasn’t the case. Sylphs were like fairies, right? And Bards were a big deal, like Shakespeare. So, with all those cool possibilities, why did I have to be the god damn janitor? It wasn’t fair.

And lastly, this just plain sucked! I’d been promised action and adventure, and instead here I was carrying a piss pot down the road. I could see those weird upright salamanders watching me from inside their arched towers. They were laughing at me, I knew it. All I could do was keep walking, being careful not to slosh or spill my load until I got to the river.

I had to do this every single day. Those were my orders, as dictated in no uncertain terms by Eusebia, my denizen. And the suck didn’t stop there. No, this was just one tiny, insignificant task in the long list of routine chores that had to be completed across the entire medium. Sometimes there were extra tasks as well, like bringing supplies over from LOFAR to build up to the gate here on LOWAT. And what’s worse, the vow of secrecy I’d taken in Eusebia’s chamber bound me to silence, so I couldn’t even tell anyone what I was doing

But this, this was bullshit. And was the work appreciated? No, of course not! As I passed the bits of plastic strewn across the ground, I shuddered, remembering that morning’s near miss. I’d been walking down the pale brick road, minding my own business while I moved lumber from the servant’s access transportalizer up to the gate, when suddenly something had whizzed right past my head!

I’d stopped dead in my tracks, frozen as I heard the impact against the ground. Plastic, glass, and bits of electronics flew everywhere, the shattered remains of a cell phone that someone — and I had a damn good idea who — had yeeted out a window. Whether it had been chucked at me intentionally or not didn’t matter; if I’d been walking just inches to my left, it would have brained me dead. So chalk that one up to either bad aim or sheer dumb luck, but either way I was so over this.

In the present, I emptied the foul liquid into the river and squatted down to clean the pot out. Unfortunately, this was a mandatory job. I couldn’t just not return the pot, even if she had tried to murder me with her phone. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t take it out in other ways. You want to throw your only communication device away? Fine! Be like that. I don’t have to bring you your tablet, not right now at least. Enjoy your tower. Bitch.

I lugged the empty pot all the way back to the tower and entered the round building at its base. Centering the pot on the mini transportalizer pad, I hit the switch that would send it back up to the top. A minute should be enough time for her to to retrieve it. Then I’d send the rest up: some clothes, water, dinner and bathroom supplies. Provide the essentials, I’d been told. I was sticking to the letter of those orders, yes ma’am. All the essentials, and nothing but the essentials.

After I’d managed to deploy everything up the tower, I began the long walk back. I still had to stop by LOSAS and do my rounds of the generators. Hell if I knew what they were for, just that they kept getting clogged with sand. I didn’t even know where it all came from, since the vaults were all sealed. If I never saw sand again, it would be too soon. I couldn’t imagine what Yana felt like, though I’m pretty sure she’d been spending most of her time over on LOMAO these days. Couldn’t blame her, really.

I stifled a yawn. I really didn’t want to go deal with the gritty mess right now, but that was a dangerous road to start down. If I slacked tonight, it would be easier to slack tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that; before I knew it, I wouldn’t be getting anything done at all. My job sucked, and it was totally unfair that I was the only one stuck with it, but according to Eusebia it was the foundation upon which the rest of my team would stand. I had to be strong, for them.

At least I had Miyong’s visit to look forward to. We’d have a blast. I’d been passing the time on my long walks by making a mental itinerary of the places on LOFAR we needed to visit. There was a waterfall a little ways past the consort village that was really pretty. Maybe we’d head there later, when the heat of the day had eased off. It would be super romantic as long as I played it right. Yeah, that sounded like a good plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That sounds like a terrible plan.
> 
> Marry/fuck/kill: Dan/Nat/Greg, no hesitations. It's rare for me to write a character that I genuinely dislike, but Greg's it. I don't know if part of it is lingering attachment to the first Greg I had in earlier drafts(I had to replace the character, because the Maid of Blood turned into more of a servile role like what you see in this chapter and it became super questionable to have a black character in that role, so I put him on a bus(RIP Greg Walker #1, secret agent extraordinaire) and found a new Greg), if other characters are infecting my opinions(doubtful, because I don't feel that way about any of the other usual suspects), or if he's just rubbing me the wrong way. He's not even irredeemable or anything. I just don't like him.
> 
> I have a very particular headcanon definition for Maid, one that dovetails with Heir. An Heir is served by their aspect initially, and then has to repay that service later on. In contrast, a Maid is required to work in service to their aspect first, before later having that service repaid to them. It's simple, elegant, and I like it.
> 
> As for Blood, that's one that never got much love in canon, so we're firmly in the realm of headcanon here. I consider Blood to be relating to your team(battalion, country, etc), people close to you(in the sense of "blood brothers") and interpersonal bonds. I also have an association with sworn oaths, in the sense of a "blood oath," as seen in the pact Karkat struck with Spades Slick.


	38. Daniel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11/27/20 update

I pulled the flashlight lantern all the way open and hung it from the hook in the center of my backyard shed. Shadows danced in the corners where the light’s warm glow couldn’t reach, growing and shrinking as the light source swayed overhead. That was okay. We only needed the middle of the space.

“Fucking sweet!” Alex pushed past me and dove onto the purple bean bag chair, the scent of sunscreen and saltwater lingering in their wake. That was the newer chair, which I’d just Designed earlier that day. I took the older one, faded blue, frayed, and with the little melted patch where I’d dropped a lighter that one time. It still held all the beans in though, so it was cool by me.

“So this is where you were hanging out all those times,” Alex said, resting their chin atop crossed wrists as they lay on their stomach and watched me over the top of their bag. “I like it. It’s comfortable. Beats the floor of my room.”

“You watched all those movies with me while you were sitting on the floor?”

“Not all of them!” Alex wrinkled their nose, wiggling into a more comfortable position. “But you remember back when I kept falling asleep, right?”

“I remember you getting so stoned you forgot you were doing anything, so you got under the covers and left the camera running.”

“Well yeah,” they smiled, caught in the act of revising history. “But that wouldn’t have happened if I wasn’t already in the bed, right? So that’s why I started sitting on the floor, and it worked. If I fall asleep this time, you can just poke me. I won’t be mad.”

“I thought you said you wanted to talk.” I’d brought my stash with me, but I thought it best to hold off. The dude had seemed insistent on a conversation, and the look in their eyes had told me it was probably one best had without anything mind-altering at play. There’d be plenty of time for that after.

“I do, yeah.” Their gaze slipped along the floor, resting for a moment on the bong I’d brought with me before they looked back to me. “That’s why you should wake me up if I fall asleep.”

“Are you that tired? We can talk another night.”

“No, it’s fine.” They paused, thinking for a moment before they continued. “Actually, I’ve been sleeping better than I have in a long time. I feel pretty good.”

“Even with Charlie there?” I settled onto my side, leaning on the edge of the bean bag as we talked.

“Man, don’t even get me started on that guy. It’s a good thing he can’t swim, because otherwise I’d never be able to get a break from him. He’s always lurking, popping up whenever Jamie starts to relax and have a good time.”

“Do they have a thing or something?” I hadn’t gotten that vibe at first, but I couldn’t really pin down what the deal with the two of them was. Maybe it was one of those “it’s complicated” things.

“I don’t think so,” Alex made a face, confusion mixed with frustration. “I couldn’t figure it out either at first, but I really don’t think it’s like that. He’s just controlling as hell, like he doesn’t like Jamie being out of his sight.”

“Weird.”

“You’re telling me. So of course I’ve been keeping Jamie out of his sight as much as possible, because fuck that.”

“The adversarial approach to making new friends, I see.” I nodded, demonstrating with a quick shrug of my shoulders that I didn’t actually care. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Pretty sure he hates me.” Alex laughed, kneading the top of the bag into a pillow. “Charlie, I mean. Jamie seems fine with it. He’s way more relaxed when Charlie’s not there.”

“Is it because of Charlie, or because you’re alone?”

“I don’t know. He keeps glancing over to Charlie before he tries to say anything, so I think it’s kind of because of him? But also he’s way more quiet whenever there’s a group of people around, like when we all met up at your house. So maybe it’s both.”

Alex lapsed into silence, picking at a seam on the bag. Despite the lack of words, I got the sense that we hadn’t really gotten to the meat of this conversation yet. I readjusted my position so my arm wouldn’t fall asleep, leaning forward as I pressed for more information.

“So what have you been doing, other than avoiding Charlie?”

“Looking for those puzzle pieces for Kayla. You’d think it’s boring work, but it’s actually pretty cool.” Alex pushed themself up straighter in the chair as they explained. “I’d left before she figured it out, but turns out there’s this whole current system on her planet that’ll take you between islands. It’s like a coaster, but underwater, which is scary cool. And you can never go back the same way you came. If you want to go back, you have to find a different current. We’ve been mapping them out as we explore.”

“You and Kayla?”

“No,” Alex shook their head. “She’s been staying back in the cave with Charlie, putting the puzzles together. Jamie and I have been doing the field work. Sometimes the pieces are on the ground, but usually they’re underwater, so we have to dive for them.”

“So you’ve been showing off your diving skills?” I started to grin, but stopped as I saw the expression on Alex’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s going to sound stupid, because it is.”

“Dude, it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you. Spit it out.”

“So, we’re out there swimming, right? And you know how it is when you go swimming. I didn’t realize it before, but he’s like,” Alex frowned, wiggling their fingers as if they were trying to grab onto a word they couldn’t quite find. “He’s, you know, Aquaman.”

“He can breathe underwater and mind control fish?” I thought I’d known my Aquaman, especially since Alex had insisted we watch the movie three times, but the withering look Alex was giving me now told me I was way off the mark. “Okay, I don’t know it. Help me out?”

“He’s fucking Aquaman,” Alex insisted. I could only stare at them, not following at all even with the added emphasis, until Alex sat all the way up. As they motioned around their arms and down their chest, I finally understood. They hadn’t meant Aquaman, not really. They’d meant he looked like someone who could fill out Aquaman’s costume.

“Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I found it hard to believe. He seemed so quiet, and kinda geeky. Not the sort of guy you’d think would be super into the gym. “He doesn’t look that, you know, big.”

“Okay maybe not all the way Aquaman. But he totally works out.” Seeing the skeptical look on my face, Alex pulled themselves up further onto the edge of the bean bag. “Man, I’m telling you. He’s got actual abs that you can see just by looking. It’s intimidating as fuck.”

“You think he’d be bothered by that?” That idea just didn’t sound right. Jamie seemed so nice. I couldn’t imagine him looking down on someone for not having enough muscles or whatever.

“Maybe. I don’t think so.” Alex paused, glancing down at their hands before looking back up to me, their brows knit in a frown. “But what if I’m wrong, and he is?”

“Well, has he said anything?”

“Hell no, you think I took my shirt off? He came walking out there all shirtless and—” Alex broke off, a quick widening of their eyes and a shake of their head serving to describe their reaction to that experience. “Yeah, no. I kept my shirt on, and tried not to stare.”

I rested my chin on my arm, watching Alex. They were really bothered by this. I wasn’t sure what to say; this wasn’t exactly my area of expertise. They were self-conscious a lot, yeah, but usually it was more self-contained than this. They’d never really worried about themself compared to others before, at least not in front of me.

“So what’s different this time?” I wondered out loud, earning a confused look from over on the other bean bag chair. Giving them a little shrug, I elaborated. “You’ve never cared before.”

“I never cared what anyone thought before,” Alex said, their voice muffled as they let their face drop onto their arms. “Didn’t plan to ever see them again, so why worry about it?”

“So you really like him.” I kept the disappointment out of my voice, or at least I hoped I did. Of course a part of me had wanted Alex to decide Jamie wasn’t so hot after all. I’d seen the looks Jamie stole when Alex wasn’t looking. As long as Alex was game, there was nothing standing in their way. Yeah, it was disappointing, but whatever. I’d be happy for them.

“Man, I don’t know.” Okay, that wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting. I frowned at the top of Alex’s head, their messy hair drooping down over the edge of the bag.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I do, kind of.” Alex’s words were hard to make out when they spoke all squished against the polyester like that. “But also, I don’t.”

“Dude, you’re not making any sense.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, popping their head up to stare at me. “Welcome to the inside of my head.”

“Okay, let’s talk this through. What’s the thing that you do like?”

“I like talking to him and getting him to talk back. Also, the hair, and all those freckles. Did you know he has one on his lip? It’s like, right there,” Alex indicated a spot on their own upper lip, just to the right of the cleft. “And I like the way he laughs, when you catch him off guard and he forgets he’s, I dunno, afraid to or something?”

I nodded along. So far I really wasn’t seeing the problem here, just a lot of things that were making me wish our positions were swapped right about now.

“So?” I prompted, as Alex’s ramblings appeared to have wound down.

“So I’m not sure I want to do anything with him.”

“Because?” I was no shrink, but this tactic seemed to be working so far. I was going to stick with it until we stalled out again. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen.

“Because my head’s all fucked up.” The dude was mumbling into the polyester again, mushing all their words together.

“What does that mean?”

“Like I don’t want to just bang and thanks for the fun.”

“Then don’t do that?”

“I don’t know how not to do that, because I’m fucked in the head. That’s the problem!” Alex smacked their fist against the bag, venting their frustration on the sack of beans.

“Okay, let’s back up a minute here.” Drawing on every ounce of my lifetime exposure to daytime TV psycho-therapists, I tried to drag some sense out of this. “What I’m hearing is, you think this guy’s pretty awesome, but you don’t want to have sex with him?”

“No, I do want that.” Alex looked up, their mouth twisting into an uncomfortable grimace as they saw the confusion on my face. “I can’t explain this right. I do want that, I want it a whole fucking lot. But Kayla said—”

“It doesn’t matter what Kayla said.” I shook my head, flapping my hand as if to banish an imaginary Kayla. “She doesn’t get to tell you what to do. You do you, and if you’re not okay telling her to back off I’ll do it.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” Alex’s tone was flat as they stared at me. Whoops. They weren’t angry, not at me at least, but I’d messed up by jumping the gun there. I nodded my apology, motioning for them to continue. “Kayla said some things, and it made me think, maybe she was right? Maybe I don’t want to just have fun once and then move on like it never happened. Maybe I want more than that.”

“So you want him to be your boyfriend?”

“That’s a weird word,” Alex hesitated, taking a second to reconsider after their initial dismissal. “But maybe something like that, yeah.”

“Okay.” We stared at each other in silence for a moment. “So what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know how to to do that.”

“Well don’t look at me, bro. You remember the one time I asked a girl out. She laughed in my face.” In front of everyone in the cafeteria, too. It had been the worst day of Junior year, hands down.

“Yeah,” Alex cringed in sympathy before shaking their head. “She didn’t deserve anyone as awesome as you anyway, so fuck that.”

“I don’t think Jamie would do that, though. Everything’s compatible according to Nat—”

“Is it, though?” There was a sudden edge in Alex’s voice as they spoke. “She doesn’t care, but what she doesn’t even think about is that a lot of other people care. They care a whole fucking lot. And plenty of them read gay porno.”

Ah. Suddenly this was making a whole lot more sense. Of course it was more complicated than just asking a nice guy out. I’d forgotten, because to me Alex was just Alex. I reached over to grab their hand, my arm dangling over the gap between our chairs as I gave it a gentle squeeze of solidarity. As they squeezed back, something teased at my mind.

“What did you do about that all those other times?”

“I didn’t.” Alex rested their head back on the chair, though they didn’t let go of my hand. I didn’t pull it back, either. They could keep it as long as they needed it. “Who gives a shit if they knew me or not? I was never going to see them again, so it didn’t matter.”

“But it matters this time.”

“Yeah. It matters a lot.”

“Then you have to talk to him.” I stroked the side of Alex’s finger with my thumb, attempting to lessen the tension I could feel in their grip. “Or I could talk to him for you.”

“No, I should do it. It’s just — it’s not easy. You don’t even know, because you just got it. You did more explaining to me than I did to you. Most people aren’t that amazing.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Coming out blows. Maybe not so much when it’s the kind of thing nobody cares about anymore, but there were still plenty of things left that people cared about very much. We sat there for a long minute, hands entwined, before Alex spoke again.

“I know I have to talk to him. I’ll do it. Eventually.”

Ah yes, I knew eventually: that vague time after later, and before soon. I knew it well.

“I had an idea about the other problem,” I said. “The asking him out thing, I mean. You should use the Design-it to make him something cool and useful.”

“Like a gift?” Alex lifted their head, tilting it as they looked over at me.

“Yeah. I’ve heard those are usually involved in human courtship rituals.”

“Shut up!” Alex tugged their hand out of mine, tucking it close to their chest as they laughed. Yes, that’s what I’d been going for! I grinned, watching as the smile lingered on Alex’s face even as the laughter faded.

“I was being serious though, about the gift.”

“I know. It’s a good idea, thanks.” Alex’s gaze held my own for a moment, then flicked over to the bong I’d left cold, sitting on the floor. “You gonna share that?”

“Are we done talking?”

“Never.” They smiled at me. “But right now, I think yeah. Besides, you’ve been telling me about this good shit for three years now, so come on. Let’s see it.”

I nodded, pulled my stash out of my pocket, and tossed it over for Alex’s inspection. They caught it, turning the baggie over as they made all kinds of faces at it, as if they were any kind of expert in the matter. I wasn’t offended, because I knew they weren’t being serious. We’d been waiting a lot longer than three years, not for the drugs, but for this. Just two bros, chilling together, the way it had been meant to be before the cruel curse of geography had gotten in the way. It was great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dan and Alex's friendship has its own mood music: [While We Sleepwalk - Paint the Sky Red](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFvGoq5aHDI)
> 
> My favorite character development exercise is to poll them in my head about random things. Food, media, whatever I might happen to encounter or think of, I get their opinions on. I don't know if it would be interesting or not, but since I don't have any notes worth sharing here I'll share one of those exercises. Question: what's your opinion on pot?  
> Alex - Yes please.  
> Alice - Never tried it, doesn't want smoke in her hair. Can't you eat it? Someone figure that out and tell her how that works. She'll wait here.  
> Bridget - Never tried it, but open to the concept and thinks it should be legalized.  
> Charlie - Vile, gateway drug that makes people act like morons.  
> Daniel - Dudes this stuff is sick, I will share it with all of you and we can have a big party.  
> Greg - Tried it once, didn't like it, don't see the point. There was definitely more tobacco than cannabis in what he tried, though.  
> Jamie - Tried it once, it was _okay_. Not going to tell anyone else they can't have fun with it, though.  
> Kayla - Never tried it, vaguely disapproves but considers it less chaotically stupid than other common substances. At least stoned people aren't likely to pick fights.  
> Miyong - Never tried it, doesn't see the point.  
> Natalya - Never tried it, but could probably be tempted if friends were involved.  
> Tomas - Good times. Not too much, though. Has had fun making his own edibles in the past.  
> Yana - Never tried it, seems like fun in theory? You miss a lot of things growing up in a bunker in the middle of nowhere!
> 
> There's not much more to say here, so just have an [Aquaman](http://www.popcultnews.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/12/Jason-Momoa-was-asked-to-appear-shirtless-for-a-scene-in-DCs-Aquaman-2.jpg).


	39. Jamie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/4/20 update part 1 of 2

I hurtled through the water at an incredible speed, eyes squeezed tight behind my goggles to block out the disorienting sight of the underwater acceleration. Just as the need to breathe became urgent, the current slowed. I reached out to grasp the rocky ladder, using the rough and smooth sides of the crossbars to orient myself before I began my ascent towards the surface.

My first time through the currents had left me horribly dazed, and unsure of which way was up. If Alex hadn’t been there to reach for me, to help me out of the water, it might not have ended well. But it was easy enough now that I knew how to do it. My head broke the surface of the water as I emerged into a dark cave, breathing in a welcome lungful of air. I hauled myself out of the dive well and, still dripping, crawled along the floor so that Alex would have space to come up. Daylight was visible up ahead, filtering down at the far end of the tunnel.

A splashing behind me signaled Alex’s arrival. I guess technically I was supposed to be escorting them, as they were unarmed — firearms don’t exactly get along with the ocean — but every day so far it had felt more like they were escorting me. This was the first time they’d prompted me to jump in first, to be the one leading the way into uncharted waters, and I’d been so afraid I was going to goof it up. I still was.

Hunched over to avoid cracking my head on the low roof, I made my way toward the light. A ladder led upward, coming out inside a little stone well, just high enough off the ground to trip anyone who wasn’t looking where they were walking. By force of habit, I flinched away from the sensation of the warm sun against my bare shoulders as I crawled out over the edge. I’d been getting nasty sunburns on this planet, but this morning Alex had given me some sunscreen that they said would help, which had been really nice of them.

I offered Alex a hand up as they emerged, helping their slight frame clamber out of the well with ease. Their own goggles dangled limply around their neck, over one of those oversize t-shirts they’d been wearing every day since we got here. I wasn’t sure why they felt the need to wear one, as their skin was dark enough that surely they wouldn’t burn, even under this monster of a sun. Then they smiled at me, and I forgot about the t-shirt. I also forgot I was supposed to let go of their hand, until they wiggled their fingers against my grip.

They turned away from my blush, starting a standard sweep of this new island. Grottos, tidal pools, and dive holes were all common places for puzzle pieces to hide, and the islands we’d charted so far all had at least one of those features, often more. Sometimes there were also monuments, statues or cryptic messages; these were meaningless to the two of us, but Kayla would find them important to her quest, so it was my responsibility to remember those and record them later.

Our sweep of this tiny island turned up only a shallow dive hole, rocky and narrow with bleached coral reaching up like bones from the bed. It looked like a horror movie set piece, the kind of thing you yelled at the idiot hero for jumping into — from behind covered eyes, of course. But I could see at least one piece at the very bottom, glimmering ruby red in the deep, clear water, so of course we were going to go down there.

“Shit,” Alex swore, the harsh word cutting through the island’s silence. Startled, I broke my fixation on the hole, glancing over to where they stood at the edge.

“What’s wrong?” It was easier talking when it was just two of us here, especially in reaction to something like that. They looked upset, scowling down at the water. As I watched, they shook their head, an expression of disgust on their face.

“I left the bag,” they said, and I groaned inwardly. The bag was a mesh drawstring bag we used to carry the puzzle pieces back to Kayla. Without it, we’d surely lose them in the currents. But to go back for it — it had taken so long to get out here! The entire day was going to be a waste.

“I know exactly where it is, too,” they continued, scuffing at the sand with their toes. “It’s on the counter at the pretzel stand. I can’t even keep track of one fucking bag.”

“It’s okay,” I said, swallowing my own disappointment. There was no use getting upset over an accident. “We can come back tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to come back tomorrow.” They clenched their hand into a fist, staring down at the ground. “It was a pain in the ass to get here, you know it was. I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“You made a mistake.” It really wasn’t this big of a deal.

“Yeah, I—” Alex broke off, seeming to think better of what they were about to say, and frowned intently at the water instead. I wasn’t sure what to say. After a moment, they shook their head and pulled their arms inside their shirt, tugging it off over their head.

The obvious question died on my lips as they knotted the holes closed. Of course. That was clever. I didn’t have the chance to say so before they were slipping down into the water, the makeshift bag discarded at the side of the hole. I guess they were going first, then.

They ducked beneath the surface, coming back up with a piece that must have been tucked away on a hidden shelf. They pushed the sodden hair away from their eyes and pressed the piece into my hand before submerging once again. This one was a rich yellow, made out of the same stuff — closer to ceramic than to stone — as the others I’d handled.

I reached down to accept two more from Alex, and then they were gone again before I could say anything. Something was off here, but I couldn’t figure out what. I watched their progress, distorted as it was by the water, from my position above. The little splash of bright green from their swim trunks darted through the water, contrasting starkly against the pale gray rock walls dotted with secret ledges and hidey holes.

Maybe I was just picking up on Alex’s frustration about forgetting the bag. They were being too hard on themself about that. They were too hard on themself about everything, honestly. I didn’t know how to put together the words to explain that none of us were perfect, that we all made mistakes and did dumb things sometimes. But every time I thought I’d found a way to say it, I looked up and they’d already gone rocketing off to something else, and the opportunity was gone. Story of my life.

Sweat trickled down my back as Alex worked, popping their head above water only for the briefest moments to deliver pieces and get some air. This was unusual. Usually they wanted to talk, and we switched places every so often so they could rest. They were diving deeper now too, down beneath the pale coral’s reaching fingers. That was unnerving to watch.

As they came up again to make a delivery, rather than merely accepting the pieces I reached out to grasp their arm. Their eyes widened in surprise as they nearly dropped the pieces, but they slapped them down on the rocky edge of the pool instead. Clinging to the edge with their free hand, they looked up to me, their question left unspoken but yet obvious.

“I should take a turn,” I said, chickening out on the question I’d actually wanted to ask. It’s not like they would have told me what was wrong anyway, even if I had asked.

“It’s fine.” They tugged their arm out of my loose grasp and sunk down so the water covered their shoulders again, leaving only their head and hand above the surface.

“It’s not fair, you doing all the work.”

“What if I want to do all the work?” They raised an eyebrow, then gave a quick, infuriating smile before ducking beneath the water again. I sighed as they kicked off, a flutter of turbulence bubbling to the surface in their wake. I really didn’t like how they were working down around the coral now. I knew they could hold their breath, that they probably weren’t in any danger, but how could I be sure? What if they did get caught or something, and I didn’t realize until it was too late? That would be horrible.

I rehearsed the words in my mind, forming the thought as I watched them turn around, polishing it as they began to swim back up. This time, as they broke the surface, water cascading down their face and around those swim goggles they still weren’t wearing, I was ready.

“It’s making me nervous, and I wish you’d stop for a minute so we can talk about it!”

“What’s making you nervous?” Alex frowned, tilting their head as they deposited a black piece on the edge. I picked it up, turning it over in my hand absently while I came up with an answer. Ow, that corner was sharp! I sucked the blood from the tip of my finger, the taste of saltwater lingering on my lips.

“The coral,” I said, after nursing the wound for a moment. It was barely a scratch; I’d be fine.

“What about it?” Alex glanced down, the crease between their brows deepening as they peered into the water below.

“I keep thinking it’s going to reach out and trap you, or — sorry, it’s stupid.”

“It’s not going to grab me and drown me, or whatever you’re thinking. It’s all dead, actually. That’s what Kayla said it means when it’s white like that, instead of having colors.”

“But what if it’s undead?” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I cringed hard. Why had I said that? Who even thinks about undead coral? See, this is why I think before I talk. When I just let my mouth go on by itself, it says the dumbest things.

Alex looked at me for a moment, then laughed. Heat rose in my face and I looked away, too embarrassed to meet their eyes. As I did, their laughter stopped.

“Shit. Hey,” I heard them say, then felt their wet hand against my knee, reaching for my fingers. I looked back over as their hand found mine, the tips of our fingers touching loosely. Their eyes were full of concern as they looked up at me. “I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I thought you were making a joke.”

“Just being dumb.” Someone who wasn’t me might have been able to laugh this one off. Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

“It’s not dumb, though. I mean, back on Earth, yeah, zombie coral is pretty dumb. But here, who the hell knows? I’d believe it.”

“Then why’d you laugh at me?”

Alex pulled their hand back down to the water, wrapping it over the edge of the pool to serve as a chin rest.

“Because I forgot we didn’t have the same aspect. You know, how we’re each supposed to be an expert on something, and sort of just get things about it without even thinking about it?” I nodded. I was familiar with this concept, having been present when Charlie delivered his grand lecture about it the previous evening. “And you’re sun, so—”

“Light,” I corrected.

“Right, symbol’s a sun but it’s called Light. I’ll get it straight eventually. Anyway, that’s like, literal, right? Obviously, Light has jack shit to do with undead.” They paused for a moment, tapping a finger against the rocky ledge. “Unless it’s vampires. If I find any of those, I’ll call you. But zombies have nothing to do with you.”

“But they have to do with you?” I actually didn’t know Alex’s aspect. It hadn’t come up as an example, and I hadn’t asked.

“Sorta maybe? Nat said it feels like the opposite of hers, and she’s Life, so that would make me death.”

“Your aspect is death?” In my shock, I fumbled the puzzle piece right out of my hands. Alex snatched it as it splashed into the water, saving a trip back down. As they set it back on the edge of the pool, they shook their head.

“Doom. I think death’s part of it, but it doesn’t feel like everything. It’s a little more apocalyptic than that.”

“That’s kind of creepy.” More than kind of. I really didn’t know how I felt about this. It was hard to reconcile the person I’d come to know, their eyes so full of life and warmth, and especially that faint smile that so often flashed across their lips, with death. Or Doom. Whatever it was.

“You think I’m creepy?” They lifted their head, looking at me. No, I didn’t really. That was what had my brain all twisted up. As I shook my head, they nodded, continuing on. “It’s just my aspect. Don’t worry, I’m not going to let it tell me what to do.”

“That’s good.”

“Anyway, that’s how I know the coral’s dead for real.” I nodded along as they spoke. That made sense. They hesitated, looking down at the edge of the pool for a moment before speaking again. “You still want to take a turn?”

“It’s only fair,” I said, and meant it. I didn’t understand why Alex was suddenly insisting on doing all the hard work, but whatever the reason, I didn’t think it was right.

“Fine,” they said, giving a single nod before looking back up to me. “I’ll do a couple more runs, then I’ll come up and you can take a turn.”

I nodded, and they flashed me one of those smiles before slipping beneath the water once again. I still couldn’t quite get my head around Alex’s aspect. Death or not, it seemed so fundamentally incompatible with them. The gothiest thing about Alex was the black polish on their fingernails, and even that was chipped away nearly to nothing, giving more of a punk rocker vibe than a child of darkness vibe.

Also, that smile. The one that kept happening, and made my heart skip each time. I knew what death and the apocalypse looked like — all of us did — and it was nothing like that. I didn’t think Alex was a liar, but this whole aspect thing had to be more complicated than Charlie thought. Otherwise, it didn’t make any sense.

After bringing up a few more pieces, true to their word, Alex looked up to me. “You still want to go? Just warning you, I got all the easy ones.”

“Because you won’t wear your goggles,” I said, immediately regretting the grumpy tone in my voice. They’d think I was actually upset! But no, they laughed, clinging to the side of the pool with both hands.

“Didn’t need them yet. But yeah, you can go down now, if you want.”

I nodded, stepping back so they had room to exit the diving hole. They pushed themself up, water streaming down over their slender shoulders and smooth chest. They glanced up to me, catching me in the act of staring. Whoops. Trying to be helpful instead of just weird, I offered them my hand. Their hand closed around mine, and I pulled them to their feet.

All of a sudden, we were standing really close together. Either I hadn’t given them as much room as I’d thought, or I’d moved closer without realizing, or something else totally unexpected had happened; whatever the case, they were mere inches away, so close I could feel their warmth on my own bare skin. I looked down into their eyes, picking out the uneven flecks of warm golden brown. I knew I should let go of their hand and step back, give them some space, but I couldn’t. They were right here, so unintentionally close, and—

Before I could talk myself out of it, I closed my eyes and dipped my head. The sane part of my brain protested — what are you doing? — but I pushed it aside as our lips touched. Their lips parted, lightly chapped and tasting of the sea, and for a wonderful, heart-racing moment they kissed me back. Then they stiffened and pulled back, away from me. I let go as the part of my brain I’d told to shut up screamed at me about how stupid that had been. You don’t just grab people and kiss them! Who does that?

Alex looked away, but didn’t drop my hand. Should I say something? Yeah, probably. I should apologize for being a total lech, right? But why were they still holding my hand? Before I could claw my way out of my tumbling thoughts and assemble a coherent response, they spoke, still refusing to meet my eyes.

“We need to talk about something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Alex? I couldn't help but notice the lack of Jamie even noticing, let alone giving a damn about, your bony parts and weird indentations. Just saying.
> 
> The aspect of Light is fairly broad, encompassing illumination(both literal light and in the sense of bestowed knowledge), good fortune, and relevance. It's pretty easy to see how this fits in with Jamie's shadowy land.
> 
> My brain-Natalya has been on a will-they-won't-they this whole chapter. That big swing near the end took her from shipping glee all the way to smouldering anger at how stupid these two are being. Jamie was kinda right, though. It's not a super great move to just grab people and kiss them.


	40. Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/4/20 update part 2 of 2

I sat with my back against a rocky outcropping, arms wrapped around my body as I watched Jamie sit down next to me. He left a comfortable amount of space between us, not so much that he was out of reach but enough that he was clearly wary. Shit. I shouldn’t have pulled away like that. I should have just gone along with it. Well, I should have not put off this conversation is what I should have done, but it was too late for that. I wished he’d take off those goggles, though. The boxy lenses made it impossible to see his eyes, making this conversation even more difficult than it had to be.

“I’m sorry,” he broke the lingering silence, biting the inside of his lower lip. “I should have asked.”

“No, that’s not—” I sighed, muttering under my breath in a language I hoped he wouldn’t understand. “It’s not your fault.”

“But if you didn’t want—”

“I wanted it.” There, I just said it bluntly. That got him to stop talking at least, his cheeks flushing pink under the dusting of freckles as I tried to figure out how to say this. Man, those goggles were really going to be a problem. I motioned to my own eyes as I spoke. “Can you take those off so we can talk?”

“But then I can’t see you.”

Shit, right. They were prescription. I brought a loosely-clenched fist up to my mouth, pressing my first knuckle against my lips as I racked my mind. I’d just have to deal with it. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair to — wait, what was he doing? I watched as he lifted the goggles away from his eyes, settling the lenses among the mop of messy curls. The suction had left marks, pale red rings framing a pair of eyes filled with confusion and concern.

“Are you sure?” I asked. He shrugged in response, watching me silently. I nodded my thanks, taking a deep breath before I spoke again.

“So. You call me they.”

He nodded.

“Why?”

My question hung in the air. I watched as he opened his mouth, then shut it, his gaze drifting downward away from my face as he thought it over. I shifted position, moving my arm up to cross my chest, as if that one scrawny limb could hide the little dent in the center, or the ribs that stood out at my sides. Of all the days for him to go and kiss me, why’d it have to be the one day I’d taken my shirt off?

“I don’t know,” he said finally, blinking as he brought his eyes back up to my face. “Everyone else did, so I did too. Was that not right?”

“No. I mean, yes.” Now I was confusing him. Jesus Christ, I was even confusing myself. “It’s fine. I just didn’t know if anyone had explained it.”

He shook his head. Alright. There were no more questions I could ask, no other obvious ways of putting off the inevitable. I just had to jump on in and say the fucking thing. Somehow. Without making him think I was some kind of weirdo freak. Which was the problem. Despite days of putting it off and trying to figure out how to say it, I still didn’t have the slightest idea where to begin. Ugh, I just had to say it. Get it off my chest, and clean up the mess later. Here goes nothing.

“So, I’m—” my voice faltered, the sentence petering away into silence. I couldn’t say it like that. Saying it like that only made sense to Dan. No, just blurting it out wouldn’t work. I had to actually explain it.

“I know you’re seeing me one way—” what did that even mean? “—like what I look like, and I know you like people who—” what, no, stop. Just stop. I clamped my mouth shut, refusing to find out where that sentence was even going. I should have written this down. That was an excellent idea. Why hadn’t I had that idea last night, or at any point before I was blundering through some shitfucking explanation that made no sense to myself, let alone anyone else?

“Hey.” At the sound of Jamie’s hesitant voice, I looked over. I felt the scowl on my face melting away as I saw his expression, utterly baffled but at the same time filled with a deep concern. “Are you trying to say you’re trans or something?”

“What? No, I’m not a girl.”

“Or a boy, I don’t know.”

“No, it’s not like that.” I sighed, pressing the heel of my hand against my eye. “I wish it was that simple, just boiling it down to some easy word that other people know what to do with. But that’s the fucking problem here, I don’t have a word for it. If I did, this would be a lot easier.”

“Okay. Can you tell me what you’re not, then?” As Jamie spoke, I lowered my hand, looking over to them. That was a good idea. I could probably do that, yeah. After all, I’d been through the entire thing with Dan. All I had to do was talk it through again, just like before.

“So there’s male and female, both, and neither.” I boxed out a shape with my hands as I spoke. I figured Jamie had no idea what that was about, but I wasn’t really doing it for him. It was to help me think.

“Neither?”

“Like, no gender.”

“Okay.” Jamie nodded, processing that for a moment. “So is that you?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I definitely have one. It’s the same one, all the time, and it definitely exists.”

“But it’s not any of those other ones you said?” I shook my head again in response to his question. “So it’s in between, like half one and half the other?”

No, that wasn’t it either. I shook my head, lowering my hands into my lap. I was absolute shit at explaining this. How did you explain something that could only be described using words you didn’t know? Dan had managed it somehow, pinning the entire messy concept down with one simple arrow on a diagram. But I wasn’t him.

“I told you,” I said, “I can’t explain what I am. I can only explain what I’m not. And I’m not any of those things I just said. There’s all of that, and then there’s me, none of the above. That’s — it’s the best I can explain it, I’m sorry.”

I watched as Jamie turned that over in their head. I couldn’t tell if their squinted eyes were because they couldn’t see, because they were still confused, or because they were pissed at me. I really hoped it wasn’t that last one.

“So,” they said eventually, the slow, heavy words hanging in the air as they spoke, “am I still gay, then?”

“What?” I asked, completely blindsided by that question, out of nowhere. “Hell if I know. What kind of a question is that?”

“I don’t know.” He was blushing again, the embarrassed flush rising in his cheeks as he pressed his shoulders back against the rock. “I mean, if we — it wouldn’t be gay, would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I couldn’t keep the surprise I felt at his question out of my own words. I’d worked that one through on my own a while back, but it wasn’t something anyone else I’d ever told had thought of on their own. Even Dan had messed it up, just the once, but still. “Gay is when there’s two men. So, yeah, definitely not gay.”

“I think I understand, then.” A hesitant smile grew across his face as he reached a hand out toward me. I looked down at it but didn’t take it; instead, I looked back up into his eyes, not quite done with my own questions yet.

“Does it matter if you’re gay or not?”

“I don’t know,” he said, lowering his hand as his words faltered. “Does it?”

“You tell me. I don’t care what you call yourself, as long as you know who I am and why it matters. But if it’s a big deal, or—” He shook his head, dispelling my question even as I was asking it. In response, I reached out to where his hand rested on the sand. Uncurling his fingers, I settled my own beneath them, my thumb laying gently across his knuckles.

“I’m sorry I grabbed you without asking,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, looking into his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry. You were fine. I freaked out for other reasons, not because of what you were doing.”

He nodded to me, returning the squeeze. I scooted closer, pressing myself against his chest, our clasped hands trapped between us. He hugged me loosely with his other arm, my head resting on his warm shoulder as I closed my eyes. The lingering tension drained away as he held me, replaced with relief that somehow, despite my impossibly fucked up explanations, he got it. That he actually understood me.

“Can I kiss you again?” As he asked the question, I pulled back, away from the hug. Catching a glimpse of his face as he looked away, I instantly regretted the move. That wasn’t what I’d meant! I was just repositioning. I touched his shoulder, pulling his attention back to me. Answering his question with a smile, I leaned close to remove all ambiguity.

His lips were every bit as soft as that first time, though I was able to actually enjoy it now that I wasn’t freaking out. I paused to breathe, my nose brushing against his cheek as he wrapped both his arms around my shoulders, enveloping me in a warm embrace. A shiver rushed across my skin; nobody had ever done that before, made me feel small in a way that wasn’t aggressive. I liked it. This was actually pretty amazing, the best beach day ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth on allowing Jamie to react to Alex's attempt to come out with a crisis of sexuality. Is it the ideal way to respond? Not really. It's not about you, so shut up and let the other person talk, you know? But it's something that he insisted on doing, and trying to avoid it was only taking him out of character and breaking the scene. I wound up making my ultimate decision based on whether it would cause Alex pain or distress, which it really didn't. They're confused and maybe a little bit offended at first, but once they realize why Jamie jumped to that question(and hammered out a few more details about it) it's not distressing at all. Also obligatory disclaimer: labels, identities, different for everyone, etc.
> 
> Alex should have just drawn the damn diagram. There's a whole backstory behind that, where Alex was helping Dan with math homework(lol ikr, but Alex's private school math track was slightly accelerated, so even though neither of them was much good in that class Dan was still the one ultimately worse off) except instead of tutoring whatever 3D plotting they were working on, Alex was rambling about everything that didn't feel right for them. Then Dan labeled the three axes X, Y, and Alex, and asked if that solved the problem. Alex was all, yes actually it kind of does, but can you do that? Sure, why not? And that's Alex's superhero origin story. I'm not sure it can get much nerdier, which is why it's a secret and never to be shared with anyone, even when the diagram would be super helpful.
> 
> Alex is also wrong that there's no word for that(the term "trans" is generally considered applicable in the general sense, and there's specific identity labels as well). The problem is that, during initial questioning, they googled it and found a giant mess of information and vocabulary that they didn't understand. This was promptly deemed to obviously be confusing bullshit, and thus never looked at again. I feel like at 18(rather than 14~), a good hour-long session on 2020 google would clear up a lot of lingering issues here, but the problem is getting the character to actually sit down and do that. Sorry to say, it ain't happening. I do my best, but it's like herding puppies who've just figured out the whole running thing. There's basically just a stack of them under a trench coat, stumbling around and calling themselves Alex.


	41. Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/11/20 update

I stood upon the bank of the underwater lake, deep beneath the surface of LOIAC, and surveyed the work we’d completed over the course of the long afternoon. Six sigils representing each of our aspects — Life, Light, Mind, Space, Time, and whatever the spiked helmet signified — were spaced around a central symbol, that of the gates which floated above our houses. While the symbol in the center was etched into the stone, the others were mere cutouts, to be filled with pieces of colored stone.

I had to admit, the work had proved to take more effort than I had anticipated. At first glance, it had appeared to be a mere children’s jigsaw, the type where you must fit a dozen pieces into a frame to form a picture. Except these jigsaws were one solid color — yellow-green, yellow, blue-green, white, red, and black respectively — and our efforts were further complicated by the fact that most of the irregularly shaped pieces were yet missing. Guesswork was a waste of time and effort.

“You think if you frown at them enough, they’ll magically fit themselves together?” Kayla spoke up at me from where she sat cross-legged on the ground next to the Space symbol, a white pinwheel spiral comprised of six narrow spokes. What made that one particularly infuriating were the minute inconsistencies in each spoke, with the construction of the pieces lending themselves to multiple apparent solutions which never quite fit the mold. I had given up some time ago, moving to work on the black symbol instead.

“No.” Something else bothered me: the matter of what this symbol signified. It belonged to Munoz, that much I knew through elimination, but they had not spoken of their aspect in front of me. Did they even know? Their early revelations in this game seemed to be less a credit to their own initiative and more a shortfall on the part of others such as Kayla, who I had been shocked to discover had simply taken her sprite at its word without proper interrogation.

As infuriating as my own guide was, I had pressed, pried, and investigated until I had wrung every scrap of possible information from the dialogue. It was utterly baffling to me as to why somebody would simply walk away from an advantage they been given. Munoz was no high intellectual, that much was clear, and it rankled when they were praised for putting forth an effort that, frankly, should be expected as the bare minimum. I had also found Park to be disappointing thus far. There was so much potential there, wasted largely on Munoz.

Was it any surprise that I found myself fearing for Jamie’s future? He spent his days with Munoz, and despite his attempt to hide the action, I’d witnessed him texting Park after dinner last night. What had happened to the two of us? I understood now that we had never been meant to play alone, that failure would have been the only possible result of a Mage of Mind and a Page of Light attempting a two-player session. I did not yet fully understand why, but it had been made clear to me that the aspects of Space and Time were somehow vital to the success of any game session.

However, that did not mean we were required to interact with them so closely, and it certainly did not mean that we should volunteer ourselves, especially not in such a ludicrous manner. What had he been thinking, stumbling into that table as if he were drunk? We belonged together, on the Land of Logic and Clarity and the Land of Libraries and Shadows. We did not belong here, completing endless puzzles on a stranger’s land.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Kayla’s question pulled me from my reflections. As I emerged from the comforting depths, I found myself disoriented; collecting myself, I looked over to where she now stood, arms crossed beneath her chest.

“What is that?” I pointed to the mystery symbol at my feet, voicing one of my thoughts least likely to cause offense.

“Alex’s aspect.”

“Obviously. I was asking what it represented.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t asked, as I’ve had other things on my mind.” She lowered her hands, balling them against her hips as she frowned. “You know they tried to take just a poptart again for breakfast this morning? That’s what they ate last night, too. I told them, you can’t live off poptarts, you dummy! I guess it’s true what they say: you can lead a horse to salad, but you can’t make them eat it.”

I had nothing relevant to say regarding that anecdote. I believed it in its entirety. While I had not witnessed whatever had taken place this morning, I had been present the previous evening. My observations had been consistent with both my understanding and expectations of Munoz’s behavior. After a moment, Kayla sighed, shaking her head.

“You could try asking Dan. If anyone knows, he does. It’s possible Alex just never bothered to find out. None of us really knew about aspects back when they talked with that monster of theirs, and I know they’ve soured on their quest since then.”

“None of us can afford to disregard the path laid before us. To do so would be to sacrifice the potential of the entire team.”

“You’d have to take that up with them. I’d pay to be a fly on the wall for that. No offense, but I’ve never met two people more stubborn. If you can manage to talk sense into them, well, that would be more than I’ve ever accomplished.”

She mistook strength of conviction for stubbornness, in my case. I took a deep breath in, fighting the urge to object. Our fates were irreversibly tangled, as they had been ever since Jamie had connected our sessions to each other. I should let this slight go, as it seemed to be rooted in misunderstanding rather than malice. But before I could reply, I heard voices. Jamie was back, and Alex with him.

They exited the side passage into the grotto, Alex in the lead with Jamie following at their heels. Both wore only swimming trunks, a questionably casual fashion choice. The aquarium was right there, where it had come to rest in the center of the water. Any reasonable person would have gone to change into more suitable clothing, but naturally they were coming over here first.

As they reached us, Alex shot a grin back over their shoulder, crouched down, and tipped a makeshift pouch. A rainbow shower of pieces spilled out onto the cavern floor, clattering over each other as they came to rest. I took a quick inventory, counting only about two dozen. That was fewer than half what they’d ordinarily been bringing back. Kayla had apparently come to the same conclusion. She turned to face them, tucking a twist of hair behind her ear, and crossed her arms again.

“That’s not very many. What happened?”

“You know,” Alex shrugged, crumpling the bag — which I believed was actually the ludicrously large shirt they’d been wearing that morning — into a ball. “Zombie coral.”

“What?” She glanced between the two of them, utterly dumbfounded. I had to agree; that was the most idiotic excuse I’d ever heard.

“Don’t worry, turns out it was fake news.”

“Alex,” Kayla’s head shook slowly back and forth as she pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I need you to stop messing around. If you’re not going to find the pieces—”

“Don’t worry, we’ll bring more in tomorrow. Today some stuff happened, but tomorrow it won’t. I promise.”

Looking past Alex, I caught Jamie’s eye, or tried to. He avoided my gaze, his attention darting away to focus on the back of Alex’s head as I watched the corners of his mouth lift in a small, quick smile. Did he think this was in any way amusing? Sometimes I felt like I was the only person in this entire game session who was taking things seriously.

“I need to know what your aspect is,” I said, cutting directly to the heart of the matter as I shifted my firm gaze back to Alex. They opened their mouth, then closed it again, glancing over to Kayla as she cleared her throat. Looking back to me, Alex shook their head before finally answering my very simple question.

“Doom. Don’t make that noise at me, K!” They looked back over to Kayla, who had scoffed in disbelief. “I swear I’m not fucking around.”

“Yeah, but Doom? That’s like a comic book villain.”

“Yeah and you’re a Space alien, but you don’t see me mocking you for it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding a smile behind her hand. “You just don’t seem very Doom-y. If aspects are supposed to be something you’re like, or that you’re good at, I think the game was way off on that one.”

“Who said that?” Alex wrinkled their nose.

“I said that,” I said, folding my arms. “You would remember that I’d said that had you been paying attention at the time I said it.”

“I was listening!” And there went Alex’s arms, waving around in an explosion of outrage. I was convinced that it was literally impossible for them to stand still for five seconds straight.

“No,” I replied, my tone calm and stead. “You were crumpling up little bits of paper.”

“I was folding paper stars in all the different aspect colors to bring back to Mimi from the Space planet.” Alex narrowed their eyes at me, tucking their arms together in a mimicry of my stance. The confrontational position might have looked fierce had they not been nearly a foot shorter than me. “Anyway, I don’t know where you heard that from, because that’s not right at all. Your aspect isn’t what you are, it’s what you oppose.”

“Sorry, what did you just say?” How dare they try to tell me how this was! It would be one thing if this was a true debate between academics, but they’d hardly paid attention. How was I meant to have a discussion with someone so ill-informed?

“It’s simple: Dan goes through all those gates to make Time do what it’s supposed to do, Nat chops Life up with her sword, Kayla keeps us all grounded so we don’t float off into Space, Jamie keeps getting burned by the Light—”

“That’s utterly ridiculous,” I said, cutting the explanation short. Was Jamie hearing this? He stood a little way behind Alex, one hand clasped around his other wrist as he made a careful study of the cavern wall, clearly staying out of this. I looked back to Alex. “Were you paying attention at all, such as to the part where I explained how we are each masters in our own aspect area?”

“Of course.” They shrugged one shoulder, keeping their arms folded tight across their chest. “I don’t think you’re wrong about that, just the rest of it.”

“Under the logic you just admitted is correct, what right does a Doom player have to question the interpretation of a paragon of Mind? Surely you see that deference to another’s aspect is natural, as we each perceive and understand our own aspects in ways no other can.”

Alex stared at me for a moment before scoffing and shaking their head with a smirk. “Not if you’re wrong.”

“This argument is going nowhere.” Under what I desperately hoped was a cool exterior, I felt anger beginning to boil. I’d spent seventeen years living with my mother, and she’d only managed to get this far under my skin over the course of the last few. This furiously irritating person standing there before me smirking — smirking! — had accomplished the same feat in mere days. Yet, I was determined to remain calm, for that is the difference between a fool and a rational individual. “I would be more inclined to participate had you put forward even a modicum of effort. What weight could your words possibly carry when you refuse to participate in the quest laid before you?”

“I would if it wasn’t such bullshit.”

“My point stands.” I took a deep breath, ready to state it again, as many times as it would take to drive the message home. However, before I could speak, Kayla stepped between us, interjecting herself physically into the conversation.

“Will you two just stop?” Her outstretched palm reached uncomfortably close to my chest, and I reflexively took a step back. “I was having a nice day until you started bickering. There aren’t enough people left alive in the universe for two of them to be mean about what’s really just theories in your heads, so knock it off! Now, are we capable of sitting down and eating dinner together like civilized people, or are you going to start again?”

I kept my mouth shut, providing only a terse shake of my head to her question. It looked for a moment as if Alex was going to jump back into things, but they seemed to think better of it, closing their mouth instead. Jamie was watching, his expression difficult to read; those goggles he wore were vital for his eyesight, but obscured his eyes in this dim light, making it next to impossible to determine what he was thinking.

“Good. Thank you. It’s going to be crab chowder, I’ll bring it out in about an hour. You two,” she motioned towards Alex and Jamie this time, no longer including me in the count. “You smell like ocean, go wash. And use soap! I Designed a shampoo that smells good this morning so that’s not an excuse anymore, Alex.”

Alex flopped a lazy salute and turned, heading for the aquarium and, fortunately for us all, the showers. Jamie gave a quick nod then moved off after them, taking long strides to catch their quick pace. I watched as they walked away together, long enough to see Jamie’s hand slip into Alex’s, his traitorous fingers twining together with theirs.

That was unacceptable. Something would have to be done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No. Stop. That's Natalya's OTP you're messing with. Do you really want to take on psycho sword girl after you've gotten in the way of her shipping? If you'd like to pre-select your coffin, I've got some right over here.
> 
> Alex gets way too much joy out of provoking Charlie until he blurts out hilarious things like referring to himself as a "paragon of Mind." That's definitely going to come back to bite them in the ass one day, but I can't quite bring myself to stop them from doing it, because in the meantime it makes them so happy.
> 
> Oh boy, classpect time! Let's start with Mind. That has to do with memory, thoughts, the decision making process, and knowledge acquired through logic and deduction. That last part contrasts against Light's knowledge, which is more like the stuff that enters into your mind as fully-formed facts. The knowledge gained from Mind is something you have to assemble yourself. It's the difference between being told the rule that an odd number added to an odd number will produce an even number, and being handed the definitions for even, odd and addition and assembling the proof yourself.
> 
> Now, what's a Mage? Canon was silent on this. We only saw two: Sollux, and Nepeta's ancestor whose name I can't remember. Neither was elaborated upon. The headcanon I follow is that a Mage gains information using their aspect. For example, the whispers of the dead gave Sollux vital information about the game he was about to play. In this case, a Mage of Mind is someone who gains information through analyzing other people's personalities, behaviors, and motivations. I also have a personal headcanon that Mages tend to be a bit show-offy, like they can't quite help demonstrating how superior they and their aspect are. See: "paragon of Mind."
> 
> And Pages. Page is the butt monkey class, at least according to Vriska. But wait, Vriska did everything wrong, remember? We're not listening to her. Page is a class of near-infinite potential, but one that starts off extremely under-powered compared to others. Their power curve is long and shallow, turning exponential only near the very end. But what is it they actually do? They generate their aspect. That's it. Well, that's pretty boring. Maybe Vriska was right after all.


	42. Tomas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/18/20 update

“I don’t understand,” I said, my head buried in my hands. Not only was this blocking out the sight of Prospit, which was entirely too bright and cheerful at the moment, but more importantly it shielded me from Bridget, who had sat herself down right next to me on the rooftop. “Why can’t you just tell me what to do?”

“That’s not what a therapist does, Tomas.”

“I know what a therapist does,” I said, dropping my hands to my lap as I peered over at her through narrowed eyes. How could I not? I’d seen enough of them after the car accident. But she only shook her head, the light of Skaia shining like a halo through the stray wisps of hair that had escaped her braid.

“Then you understand that my job is to help you find the answers within yourself, not to make them up on my own and tell them to you.”

“But you’re not my therapist!” I balled my hands into fists for a brief, frustrated moment before pressing them down against the edge of the roof, my fingers curling around the carved edge. “Look, I’m not asking you to help me un-fuck my head. I’m just asking for advice, friend to friend.”

She tilted her head at that, a strange twist in her mouth as she replied. “We’re friends?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I don’t see any reason why we can’t be.”

She thought about that for a minute, running her thumb over the end of her braid, before a gentle smile broke across her face.

“I can’t see any reason why not, either. After all, we need to stand alongside each other to conquer the obstacles ahead. Tough times will make fast friends out of anybody.”

“Sure.” That hadn’t exactly been where I was going with that, but I’d take it. “So, what advice would you give to a friend in my situation.”

“Tomas,” she said, the smile fading as she tossed the braid over her shoulder, looking me dead-on with a serious expression in her eyes. “Do you only want me to be your friend because you think, based off of absolutely nothing I might add, that I give good advice?”

“What?” I blinked, dumbstruck by the suggestion. I hadn’t even thought of that. No, that wasn’t true at all! She was nice to talk to, that’s all. She’d helped me feel human again, during our long dream talks these past few nights. I knew what it sounded like — or at least, I did now — but that wasn’t what I’d meant to say at all! My mind scrambled, frantic for the words to explain what I’d actually meant, but before I could find them the touch of her fingers against my arm interrupted my thoughts.

“It’s okay.” She smiled again, this time a small, comforting one. “You don’t have to explain. Your face did all the answering that was necessary. So, as your friend, I’d be happy to tell you what I think you ought to do.”

“What should I do, then?” As I asked the question, her warm smile melted away, leaving nervousness written plain on her face as she hesitated, searching for the words. Whatever the thing was must be difficult, or unpleasant in some way, or she wouldn’t be trying to explain it so carefully.

“This advice is given in strict confidence,” she began, picking her words carefully. “I would ask that you not press for more information than I see fit to tell you, nor tell anyone who gave you this advice. Can you do that?”

I nodded, a frown wrinkling my brow as I leaned in, the heavy caveats only convincing me further that this was important advice.

“It is my belief,” she began, working the hem of her golden pajama shirt in her hands, “that Alice made a mistake. She did not intend for this to play out the way it has. However, this mistake was made as a result of willful ignorance rather than misfortune. She is not innocent in the matter, but her imprisonment can be seen as a sentence of sorts. Poetic justice, perhaps.”

I narrowed my eyes as I listened to Bridget talk, focusing my concentration upon her words. She must have mistaken my expression for anger, because she quickly shook her head, pausing to clarify.

“Hear me out before you assume you know where I’m going with this. I’m not saying what she did was right. She acted selfishly and harmed several people in the process, including herself. All I’m saying is that I don’t believe she needs any additional punishment beyond that which this game has already imposed.”

“So I shouldn’t break up with her?” I asked, taking advantage of a brief pause as she stopped for breath. She pursed her lips, stared at me for a long moment, then shook her head.

“What did I just say? Let me finish, please.” I nodded, chastened, and looked down at the golden buildings far below while she continued to speak. “So far, I’ve described her situation, but there are two of you at the heart of this matter. What about you, Tomas? Do you deserve to be punished for her mistake?”

I looked back at her, waiting for her to answer her own question. After a few moments, she motioned with her hand for me to say something, and I realized she was finished. I’d expected a longer monologue.

“I don’t know,” I said, stumbling a little over the words. “You know I made a choice, too. She asked me to come, and I didn’t. Isn’t that selfish too, kind of? So is that any—” I stopped talking as she shook her head.

“Perhaps.” Her tone was firm but compassionate, matching the expression in her eyes. “If she’d been placed in peril and genuinely required your aid, for instance. But she didn’t have to ascend to the top of that tower. She wasn’t forced, dragged off against her will with your attendance her only hope of rescue. She made a deliberate choice to enter, after you had already stated your intention not to visit her land just yet. That choice, and the consequences that have resulted, are her responsibility. Not yours.”

“So I should break up with her.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, either.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Tomas, what I’m trying to tell you is that you are a very kind, compassionate person. You care deeply for others, and don’t get me wrong, this is an admirable trait. But — and this is important — you need to remember to care for yourself as well. I know you want an easy answer, a script to follow that will make everything okay again, but I can’t give you that. What I can give you,” she rested her fingers on my wrist for a moment as she spoke, warmth flowing through the gentle touch, “is permission to do what’s right for yourself, without concern that you’re being cruel or selfish.”

That was a lot to wrap my head around. She was right about that: I had wanted a script. Didn’t we all? Blanket permission to do whatever I thought was best for myself sounded like the best way to wind up doing awful things to people. I’m pretty sure every horrible dictator in history was only looking out for themself, you know?

“I can’t even talk to her about it,” I said. “No matter what I decide. She blocked me, or something.”

“Me as well.” I looked over to Bridget in surprise, not expecting to hear that. She shrugged, hurt flashing across her face as she looked away from me, out toward the horizon. “I’d just told her something she didn’t want to hear, and that was that. She hasn’t been online since. I’m not entirely sure myself what I’m going to—”

I held up a hand to shush her. What was that? I’d heard it under her talking, but — there it was again! It wasn’t a bell, it was more like — like an air raid siren? Did they have those here, to warn of attacks from Derse maybe? I’d never heard anything like this before in my dreams. No, it wasn’t really a wailing siren, more of a choppy—

My eyes shot open as I clawed my way out from under the blankets. The discordant sound that had invaded my dreams blared around me, disorienting me. This meant something, I knew it did. But what? Some new threat in my Land? My gaze fell on the window next to my bed, the mist pressing against it in a thick, isolating blanket. No, the sound wasn’t coming from outside. It was inside the house, and it was so horribly loud, like the worst alarm — oh, shit!

I leaped out of bed, legs tangled in the blanket, and crashed to the ground. Kicking myself free, I shot to my feet, then to the door. Forgetting everything I’d been drilled on in school, I yanked the door open, hurtling down the hallway. I smelled the smoke, but couldn’t see it. It wasn’t coming from up here. Stairs flew by beneath me, two at a time. Arriving downstairs in record time, I finally saw the smoke, billowing out of the kitchen.

I sprinted down the hallway, shoved a coughing Yana out of the way, and surveyed the situation through squinted eyes. The fire was all over the stove, with flaming grease splattered everywhere. I yanked the cupboard door open, groping inside for the heavy canister I hoped to god would be there. And it was. Pulling the pin, I aimed the nozzle, closed my eyes tight, and sprayed. Coughing, I peered through stinging eyes to make sure I’d gotten it all. I didn’t see any more fire, but everything was a mess.

Someone pulled my arm and I let them lead me away, the extinguisher knocking against the side of my leg as I stumbled out through the back door. A deep breath of fresh air filled my lungs and I felt my head clearing, the woozy lightness receding with every breath. Coughing a few more times, I set the extinguisher down and looked over to Yana, who was staring at me with wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” I asked. She nodded, then shook her head, before giving a helpless, mute shrug. “What happened?”

“I thought I’d make you something for breakfast,” she said, clearly still shaken up. Her voice was weak, though she seemed to be trying — unsuccessfully — to keep the tremble out of it. “Because you were sleeping a lot, and I thought — but I’ve never used the stove before, not one like that. Still, I thought how hard would it be to follow the recipe, and just look up any words I didn’t know, right? But then it started smoking, and it caught on fire, and—”

“You put water on it?” She nodded in response to my question. “Don’t do that. Cover it with a lid, to suffocate it.”

“I set your kitchen on fire,” she said, turning her horrified gaze down to her hands where they worried in front of her chest.

“Yeah. But it’s out now, and you didn’t set yourself on fire, and we’re both okay. Everything’s okay. Come here.” I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her close in a hug. She was shaking, and so was I. I hadn’t expected to wake up to a house fire. I patted her shoulder and looked past her to the open door, where the alarm was still blaring out from inside. “I should do something about that. You can stay out here if you want.”

I went back inside, wincing at the noise and stink as I dragged a chair over and climbed up onto it to fumble at the smoke detector. I pulled it as far down as the wires would allow and turned it over, examining the device. There wasn’t an off button, was there? How had A fixed it last time? I got my nails beneath the battery compartment, pried the cover off, ripped out the battery, and plunged the room into a blissful silence that left my head ringing.

Sighing in relief, I pushed it back against its base with a satisfying click and climbed down, setting the battery on the counter so I wouldn’t forget to put it back in later. I slid the window open to air the room out, surveying the damage as Yana walked in behind me.

“Your kitchen’s a wreck,” she said, her voice small.

“Yeah,” I said, hiding my own trembling hands in my pockets. “Nothing that can’t be cleaned up, though. It’ll be okay. Look, it’s not even the first time.”

I stepped to my right and reached up to grasp the framed _Star Trek: Voyager_ poster that hung next to the window. I lifted it off the hook, setting it down on the counter to reveal the scorch marks it had concealed. Yana gasped behind me, an emotion I completely understood. I’d actually forgotten the damage was this bad.

“What happened?” she asked.

“So, A was down here cooking something, don’t remember what. Something greasy. Anyway, whatever it was, it went up.”

“And they put water on it?”

“Actually, no. It was worse than that. I guess they weren’t sure what to do with it, because we didn’t have the extinguisher in here back then, so they just grabbed it and tried to exorcise it out the window. And they missed.”

Yana giggled and pulled herself close to me, muffling the noise against my shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle along at the memory. I’d been in the other room playing video games, then suddenly there’d been all this shouting. It sounded vaguely Latin, like what the priest had been saying in the horror movie we’d watched the night before. After that had come a horrible crash, and the “Latin” had taken a swift turn into Spanglish profanity, at which point I’d put down the controller and gone to help. It had been a whole thing.

“I’m sorry,” Yana said, breathless from her fit of laughter. “I shouldn’t be laughing. I know you miss A, and—”

“It’s okay,” I said, realizing even as I said the words that it actually was. “I do. I really do. But they’re gone, and I have to make my peace with that and move on. That’s how it is.”

I let the words hang there in the hazy air, faintly surprised by them even though they’d come out of my own mouth. Did I really feel that way? Yeah, I did, at least I thought so. The idea felt right. Yana put her arm around my shoulders and I relaxed into her gentle, supportive squeeze. I wasn’t done having ideas, though. One more was making its way toward my mouth.

“And it’s not just A. She’s just — she left, she blocked me, whatever.” I didn’t need to say who she was. The way Yana’s fingers tightened against my bicep told me she knew exactly who I meant. “She locked herself away, made her choice, and so I’m making mine. I’m moving on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of rules that are mirrored across the universes. Like the guitar, which always belongs to whichever Munoz is acting as the guardian, or the fact that Robertsons will always emotionally walk over Glenns in their respective friendships. One of these rules is that Alex, in whatever position they wind up in, will inevitably set the kitchen on fire _at least_ once, whether at 13~ or 23~. It's just one of those universal certainties.
> 
> Short chapter this time. Next time will be longer.


	43. Greg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/25/20 update part 1 of 3
> 
> CW: sexual assault, event takes place in this chapter and is discussed in the following two. End notes contain TL;DR summaries if you feel the need to skip.

My hand scraped against bark as I grasped the broad redwood trunk, pulling myself up the little hill. Once my feet were firm on the grassy embankment, I turned and reached behind me, extending a hand back down to Miyong. She stood just out of reach, arms crossed over her chest as she looked up to me. I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t passing out in this humidity, considering she was dressed in long jeans and a maroon turtleneck. I was sweating like a pig even in just shorts and a tank top.

I wiggled my hand, urging her to come along. She spoke English just fine, pretty well actually, but she seemed reluctant to speak anyway. Maybe her accent was making her uncomfortable? I didn’t mind, but I wasn’t sure how to tell her it was okay. Anyway, it was fine if we didn’t speak so much. I didn’t want to push on anything that made her feel weird. After a long moment she reached out, closing her slender hand around my fingers. I pulled her up, guiding her slight form with ease. All those curls I did in my basement were really paying off.

She reached the top of the embankment with a quiet sigh of effort, letting go of my hand as soon as she was steady. I smiled, earning a quick dip of her head before she turned and stepped away down the path. Why was she going ahead of me? I let go of the tree, wiping my hand on my shorts as I hurried around her. I’d noticed she wore those twin swords — or whatever they were, longer than daggers but shorter than real swords — on her hips, angled forward to be easily drawn by the opposite hand. They were fancy too, all curved and shiny, putting the barely-upgraded baseball bat strapped to my pack to shame.

“We’re almost there,” I called back over my shoulder, as the trees grew taller and thicker in girth. This was one of the older parts of the forest, though nowhere near as ancient as where my denizen kept her palace. Those trees were big enough to live in and then some. These trees here were closer to the size of cars. Still big, and more majestic than anything I’d seen back on Earth, but not worthy of Eusebia. Not by a long shot.

Finally, we reached what appeared to be a dead end, the path dissipating into a spray of foliage. At least, that’s what I’d thought on the day I’d found this place. I’d pissed off a couple imps, and they’d been hot on my tail, at least until I’d stumbled through the ferns in a complete panic. Yeah, I definitely wasn’t going to tell her that story. I wanted her to think I was cool and competent, not some wimp who gets my ass handed to me by a couple lousy imps. Let’s just say I followed a treasure map.

I paused for a moment, letting the tension build. Behind me, I heard her shift position, her shoes shuffling against the leaves that carpeted the ground. Aw crap, was she bored? Dramatic tension be damned, it was time to cut to the reveal. I reached forward, parting the ferns before me to reveal a clearing. A waterfall tumbled down into a little pond, spilling over a low point in its bank to form a stream, burbling away down the hill we’d just come up.

I stepped forward into the clearing, holding the ferns aside for her to follow behind me. Her face told me nothing about what she thought of all of this. She had that girl mask on, you know, the one that’s all shiny pursed lips and shimmering eyeshadow over unblinking eyes? It’s beautiful like nothing else, but it doesn’t really tell you anything about what a girl’s actually thinking, which drives me crazy.

“So, what do you think?” Yeah, I just came out and asked it. I mean, I was trying to be nice here and not make her say anything if she doesn’t want to, but she had to meet me halfway! That impassive expression wasn’t winning any silent communication awards.

“It’s pretty,” she said after a long moment, spent gazing around at the clearing. Well, that was a start, at least.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Hey, come over here.” I moved over to the large flat rock near the side of the pool and found a seat on one corner. Swinging my backpack around, I unzipped it and reached inside to pull out twin containers of food. As I laid the picnic out on the rock, I glanced up, realizing she hadn’t moved. “I brought lunch. We can have a picnic, just the two of us.”

“You brought lunch?” she echoed back, her lips tightening for the briefest moment before that mask came back down again. Was something wrong?

“Yeah, aren’t you hungry?”

She shrugged lightly, sitting down at the other end of the rock, legs crossed at the ankle as she watched what I was doing. “What is it?”

“Casserole,” I replied, pulling the lids off the tupperware. “My grandma was from the Carolinas — that’s way down south, good food there — and she left a freezer packed full of these when the world blew up. I’m not sure exactly what they all are, but they’re really good.” After poking around with a fork, I took an experimental bite. “This one’s chicken and vegetables. Try it?”

She took the other container from my hand, giving the casserole a critical look before dipping her fork in and tasting the tiniest bite. I watched as she chewed and swallowed, peeking at me through her lashes when she thought I wasn’t watching. Why was it that girls’ eyelashes always grew so perfectly curled like that, and boys’ lashes just stuck straight out? You wouldn’t think there’d be a difference.

“So?” I asked, after she took a second, larger bite. “What do you think?”

“Good,” she said, inclining her head to me before returning her focus to the food.

We continued to eat mostly in silence, the rush of the water nearby providing enough background noise to keep the situation from becoming too awkward. I was kinda pissed we hadn’t come across any ogres on the way. I’d really wanted to show off. If we met one on the way back, I’d be fighting on a full stomach, which was kind of blargh. I wasn’t going to impress her if I hurled.

We finished the meal, washing it down with some iced sweet tea, again courtesy of my grandma. Well, her recipe at least. The trick, imparted to me some summers ago, was to add just the right amount of lemon. I bent over my pack, stacking our empty dishes for transport. Glancing up, I realized I was alone in the clearing. I leapt to my feet, spun around, and smiled in relief as I spotted her standing just a few yards away. I’d never met someone who moved so quietly, like some kind of ninja girl.

Her right hand rested flat against the rock wall as she stared out into the pond that curved before her. I headed over, behind her left shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at. As I walked, my foot came down on a twig, the snap barely audible over the sound of the waterfall. But somehow she heard it and turned to face me, her hand curling away from the cliff side as she pressed her back against it.

“Do you like it?” I asked, nodding towards the waterfall.

Her eyes — those wide, brown eyes — flicked over to it then back to me. She gave the briefest of smiles, glancing away to her left, away from the pond. I stepped over that way and leaned one shoulder against the wall, resting my other arm on my hip in what I hoped was a casually cool posture. Now she was looking back at me, both hands curled together in the center of her chest, forming a loose heart shape. Cute.

It didn’t seem like she was looking to talk right now. That was fine. We didn’t need to talk. I smiled, leaning in a little closer. She dropped her hands, breathing in as she looked up at me, her eyes so wide I could get lost in them. I kind of was, imagining them as deep berry-scented pools as I leaned down closer, my own eyes closing as my lips parted, moving ever—

Something hard hit my chest. I stumbled backwards — less from the force and more from the shock — as my eyes fluttered back open. Her teeth were bared in a grimace, her position low and solid, both short swords in hand. As I watched, she spun the one she’d used to whack me around, showing me the business end rather than the hilt. Now both were ready to stab, and she looked about ready to use them too. What the hell?

“You need to move,” she said, her voice stiff and mechanical. Her eyes were still so wide, though I sure wasn’t getting lost in them anymore, not with that crazy wildness behind them.

I complied. When a girl waving around a pair of scary daggers tells you to move, you don’t tell her to calm down; you move your ass. But I didn’t understand what was happening. Was she going to kill me? I thought we’d been having a good time!

As soon as I stepped back, she darted to my right, edging along the rock wall. As she moved, she turned so that she was always facing me, watching with that unblinking stare. Was she going to attack me? No, she was moving backward, retreating toward the path we’d come by. When she reached the veil of ferns that concealed the passage, she paused.

“Don’t—” she began, her words quickly swallowed by a weak cough. Grimacing, she took a breath and tried again. “Don’t follow me. Don’t text me. Stay away from me.”

And with those words, she was gone, leaving behind only a faint rustle and swaying of foliage. I could only stand there, dimly aware that my mouth was hanging open, but unable to care. What had just happened? She’d gone from having a good time to drawing on me in about half a second flat. All I’d done was — I mean, I guess she didn’t want to kiss me? That was fine! She could have said something. I wasn’t gonna hurt her or anything. No means no, right?

I rubbed the sore spot on my chest where she’d hit me, staring into the trees where she’d disappeared. This wasn’t how I’d thought this was going to go down at all. Would she make it back okay? How was I supposed to know if I couldn’t follow her or text her? I had no idea what was happening, why, or what I was supposed to do about it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greg no. Stop this thing you're doing. You're capable of being so much better than this, and that means something coming from someone who doesn't even like you.
> 
> Merry Christmas, y'all. This wasn't intentional. It just sort of happened that way. I'm so sorry.
> 
> TL;DR: Greg and Miyong go on a date. She's uneasy, and expresses this non-verbally. He fails to notice, inadvertently blocks her against a wall, and attempts to kiss her. She responds by drawing swords on him and leaves, warning him to stay away. Greg is confused about what just happened.


	44. Miyong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/25/20 update part 2 of 3

Feet pounded against the ground as I raced through the forest, my breath coming in harsh, ragged pants. What was I supposed to do now? I hadn’t even noticed the heat on the way out, but now it sucked at me, slowing my limbs as I crashed my way through the ferns. I wasn’t even sure if I was going the right way.

An imp cantered before me and I killed it by rote habit, taking its essence to strengthen myself even as I left the Grist behind. I didn’t know why. Maybe I wanted him to see it, to know I wasn’t helpless, that I could kill, and that I wasn’t afraid of him! Even though I was. I hadn’t realized it until I’d been standing by the cliff, when he’d come over unexpectedly. Then, he’d trapped me, made me feel tiny and powerless as he’d blocked my way out. And then—

I slashed at a fern, pushing the thought aside as I took my fear and anger out on the plant. I hated it! I hated feeling small, being at the mercy of someone else. If I’d trusted him at all, even the tiniest bit, that was all gone now. I’d agreed to go with him because it was polite to be nice to people who did you a service, but I wouldn’t have if I’d realized what he’d intended!

I had to get off this planet. Forcing myself to breathe, slow and steady, I looked around. I remembered we’d walked steadily uphill. So, if I walked downhill, I still might be going completely the wrong way. But I had to walk somewhere. I couldn’t just sit here and wait for him to show up again. I had no desire to be rescued, certainly not by him. So downhill it would have to be.

He’d tried to kiss me. The thought slipped around my defense, washing over me with a shiver. He would have, too, if I hadn’t hit him to make him stop. I knew I would have used them for real, if it had come to that. But I was glad it hadn’t. If I’d hurt him — if I’d killed him! — I had to remember I was an outsider in their group. They never would have believed me. They would have come after me, just for defending myself! Maybe they still would.

Well, maybe not all of them. There was one who spoke more practically than the others, an outsider in her own right, though not so alone as I was. Yes, it was possible there was still one person out there who might believe my side of the story.

* * *

**NascentKinesia:** bridget are you there?  
**ArtemisArcher:** Miyong, hello. You’re up late. Is there something I can help you with?

I sat in the chair in my front room, the warmest robe I owned pulled close around my shoulders. Despite the deep, plush fabric, it didn’t help. She was right: it was late. It had taken hours for me to find my way out of that horrible forest. Thankfully, while a few lights had been on inside his house, I was able to use an exterior stairway and pass through the gate without a confrontation. Whoever had thought to include that feature had my thanks.

 **NK:** something happened.  
**AA:** Are you alright?  
**NK:** not really.  
**AA:** Do you want to talk about it?  
**NK:** that depends. will you tell anyone else?  
**AA:** I want to say no, but it really does depend on what you’re about to tell me. If it’s something that will hurt someone else, like if you know someone is in danger, I can’t keep that secret. I’d have to tell them.  
**NK:** it’s not like that. i hope it isn’t.  
**AA:** Then I won’t spread it around unless your hope fails and someone does need to know. Is that okay?

It would have to be. And it made sense. As uncomfortable as it made me, if it really did matter — if he was going to do that to someone else — I wouldn’t want her to be bound by a secret. I nodded, realizing only belatedly that she couldn’t see me, and typed instead.

 **NK:** yes that’s ok.  
**AA:** So, what happened?  
**NK:** you know greg? cw?  
**AA:** I don’t know him well, but we’ve spoken. What about him?  
**NK:** he did something and i don’t know what to do.

I typed for a long time, filling the screen with pink words describing everything that had happened and all the things I’d felt. Occasionally, a splash of gold would interject with a word of acknowledgment or encouragement, but for the most part she remained silent. Eventually, fingers trembling from the effort of putting my heart on display, I finished.

 **NK:** am i being too sensitive?  
**AA:** Oh no, no you are not. I’m quiet not because I think you’re wrong, but because I’m trying to think of what to say to all of this. This is horrible. This has been happening since you first spoke?  
**NK:** not really?  
**NK:** some of it i guess, but it didn’t seem like a big deal until now.  
**AA:** It’s always a big deal if it’s bothering you.  
**NK:** but i didn’t want to be ungrateful. he saved my life.  
**AA:** While that is true, it doesn’t mean you owe him anything in return. Not even a date. I’m so angry on your behalf right now. That boy’s lucky he’s not here on LOAAM or I’d be giving him a piece of my mind right now.  
**AA:** You never did finish building up to the gate on LOWAT, did you?  
**NK:** no sorry. i started but i ran out of grist. He was doing something, but i don’t think he finished.

He’d left to go back to LOFAR instead, I was almost certain, leaving the structure unfinished. I hadn’t asked for him to do that! I would have rather seen him finish his work and not try to go on a surprise date with me. But nobody had asked me what I’d wanted.

 **AA:** You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong, and I’m glad you were able to make it home safely. It never should have happened, though.  
**NK:** what do i do now?  
**AA:** Stay away from him, and tell me if he comes around or tries to contact you, even if it’s just to talk. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to. If you’d rather not tell him that, know that I’m willing to.  
**NK:** no i meant what do i do here, right now?  
**NK:** he could be watching me and i have no idea

It hadn’t occurred to me before, though it should have. I was mortified thinking about it, all the times I’d changed my clothes or taken a long bath without considering that someone could have been watching. I knew how the controls worked. How had I never considered that possible abuse?

 **AA:** You think he might be spying on you through the Sburb client?  
**NK:** i don’t know, it’s possible?  
**AA:** It certainly is, though I hope it isn’t true. I pray that it’s a line he didn’t cross. But hopes and prayers aren’t much comfort.  
**AA:** Would you feel safer staying at mine? I don’t have a spare bedroom, but there’s a futon in the library I could make up. And, of course, you’re welcome to use my shower.

I covered my mouth with my hand, her unexpected gesture touching me deep in my heart. I didn’t know about that, though. A lot was happening very quickly, and if today had taught me anything it was that I hardly knew these people. I wanted to trust her, but I was so overwhelmed, so exhausted from my fear and exertion, that I couldn’t figure out if that was a good idea or not.

 **NK:** can i figure that out tomorrow?  
**AA:** Do you have a safe place to stay tonight?

I looked around. Nowhere in this apartment building was safe. But what about outside? My exhausted mind was drawn to the memory of a cave. It felt like so long ago. I knew I would be safe there, away from prying eyes at least.

 **NK:** yes.  
**AA:** Then of course, take all the time you need. My offer stands if you decide it’s necessary.  
**NK:** thank you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR: Miyong works through her feelings: helpless and afraid(but not wanting to be seen as such), angry, and worried about her standing in the group. She decides to contact Bridget, who she sees as a potentially sympathetic ally. Back home, they text chat. Bridget promises not to tell the others, and Miyong explains everything that has happened, including the racial comments made at other times. Bridget is supportive, and Miyong finds a safe place to stay for the night - the same cave she'd found the swords in.


	45. Bridget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12/25/20 update part 3 of 3

I tossed and turned beneath my covers, sleep eluding my grasp. The problem was that I couldn’t clear my mind; the things that Miyong had told me were locked in a never-ending race from one side of my head to the other, crashing through my consciousness whenever I thought I’d found peace. I believed her completely. He was a very nice guy, the type that you might even call a Nice Guy. I’d seen flashes of red, nothing conclusive, but what Miyong had told me tonight had set those flags waving.

If there hadn’t been a gap in the player chain, I would have gone right over to his house and told him exactly what I thought of that sort of behavior. I wouldn’t have been breaking my promise to Miyong; after all, he already knew exactly what he’d done, so I wouldn’t have been disclosing anything anyone didn’t already know. But it didn’t matter, because I couldn’t get from LOWAT to LOCAB. Three gates might as well be three million kilometers for all the good they did me.

Determined to find some rest tonight, I deliberately slowed my breathing, concentrating on the slow, smooth in and out. Slipping into a familiar mindfulness exercise, I redirected my focus to the now. What did I feel in my head, right now? I was angry. It hurt, right behind my brow. I heard my heart beating in my chest, thump-thump-thump. This was fine; it was okay for me to feel these things. I noticed, I acknowledged, and I moved on.

I proceeded ever so slowly, moving down my face to my jaw, throat, and heart. Down my arms, to where my hands clenched sheets and blankets. Then back to my core, twisted under the covers, and my hips, aching from laying still in such a stiff posture for so long. I felt the discomfort, and allowed myself to shift to a more comfortable position. Down my legs, to my knees, my ankles—

I felt the warmth of Skaia against my closed eyelids before I was even aware I’d fallen asleep. I blinked my eyes open and sat up, the silken sheets of my Prospitian bed slipping down to pool beside me. Watching the fabric fall through the air, I suddenly had an idea. It all hinged on whether the diagram Yana had found was literal or figurative, of course, but I had to try.

I got to my feet and kicked off the floor, already flying through the air before I’d even reached the window. My arm brushed against something warm as I pushed myself through the opening. Glancing back, I saw Tomas staring at me with a confused expression on his face. I shook my head, feeling the fierce, focused expression on my face as I turned away from him, flying away from the moon.

It was funny how natural this felt after just a few short days. I made myself go faster, increasing my speed until I reached what I imagined to be the equivalent of an all-out sprint. This seemed to be about as fast as I could fly, streaking off into the blackness. I kept waiting for the atmosphere to thin, to have to turn around because I could no longer breathe, but it never happened. That’s what I’d hoped for. I had a flying dream body, and the laws of physics didn’t matter anymore. Nowhere was safe.

I was looking for LOFAR, what I knew to be a forest planet. I skimmed along Skaia’s glow, staying within Prospit’s orbit as I looked out into the surrounding space. Time was difficult to measure here with no reference, so I wasn’t sure exactly how long it took, but after some time I spotted LOFAR coming over the horizon. I changed course, speeding off toward the green-covered planet.

I knew I had to get around to the far side — the dark side — and then I was looking for a house. But I saw the gates first, spinning their deep, dark red against the blackness. Beneath them, my quarry slept. I accelerated into a steep dive, pajamas rippling behind me as I entered the heavy, moist atmosphere of this planet. Good, he’d left a window open. That saved me having to break anything. I slowed, grasped the edges of the frame, and climbed through.

Inside the house, even what little ambient light the gates cast was gone. I shuffled through the darkness, following the wall and carefully navigating around unexpected items of furniture. My furious quest for revenge had hit a momentary snag, leaving me fumbling anticlimactically through the dark. Finally, my groping fingers located the light switch. I flipped it, squinting as light flooded the room.

I found myself inside a corner bedroom. The shelves and desk I’d stumbled against sat opposite the bed, where a boy with short-cropped brown hair slept over the covers in nothing but his pants, sprawled out on his back to take up the entire bed. My eyes narrowed, contempt rising in my chest as I took in the scene. Everything about his casual position indicated to me that he didn’t care what hurt he’d caused. Well, I’d make him care.

I crossed the room with two long strides, dipping to swoop up a pair of khaki shorts from the floor on the way; I had no desire to look at his underwear, and I desperately hoped he had no desire to show them to me. Balling the shorts up under my arm, I grasped his shoulders and lifted him from the bed, gave him a firm shake, then dropped him, to no avail. Rolling my eyes, I repeated the effort, his head flopping back and forth with the force of my shake.

His eyelids fluttered open then closed again, a light groan escaping his lips as I dragged him from his sleep. Before I could shake him again, his eyes shot open, staring at me in shock. Wrenching out of my grasp, he rolled away across the bed and onto the floor with a solid thump. I threw the shorts at his panicked, bobbing head as it rose over the edge, and took my time walking around the foot of the bed. By the time I got there, he’d managed only to put both feet through the same leg hole and fall back over again. I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest as I looked away, out the window, to afford him some basic level of privacy.

“Who are you?” he asked, a whine I instinctively disliked lurking beneath the surface of his voice.

“Bridget.” The two syllables cut through the muggy air like a frigid knife. I fancied I could even see the leaves on the closest tree shiver.

“Oh.” A pause. “Yeah, you’re the hope fairy girl, right?”

Something in me snapped. Suddenly, I didn’t care if he’d gotten his trousers on or not. This had gone on long enough. I turned away from the window, rounding on the boy on the floor, who scrambled backward against the wall.

“Sylph of Hope. But we’re not here to talk about me, are we?” He shook his head, hands fumbling ineffectively with his fly. “Will you get off the floor? And do that up. Nobody wants to see your pants.”

I watched, arms folded, as he complied with my order. He tried to speak, but I cut him off with a dismissive shake of my head, pointing to his bed. He sat, eyes wide and confused as he watched me. I was scaring him, I realized. I was scaring myself, in a way. This was so unlike me. But what he’d done — were we all just going to ignore it? Someone had to do something about it!

“What is wrong with you?” I said, my question met with a look of utter confusion.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you!” He shook his head, plowing onward before I could interrupt. “You come into my house, it’s the middle of the night, you throw me out of bed—”

“I never did,” I countered, pointing right at his lying face. “You fell out. I watched you do it.”

“You made me fall out! In my own house.”

“It’s better than you deserve. You had no right to threaten her like that.” My lip curled at the sight of his blank look. “I’m talking about Miyong.”

“Oh!” Comprehension dawned on his face, swiftly chased away by another round of bafflement. “I never did that. When did I threaten her?”

“Are you being serious right now? You pinned her against a cliff wall and tried to kiss her!”

“That wasn’t threatening. It was romantic, or at least it was supposed to be.”

“No, it was rapey.” The word came tumbling out before I could catch it, and the force of it caused him to recoil, eyes widening in reaction. Now that I’d out and said it, I knew I couldn’t back down. Anyway, it was true.

“I would never do that,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he wrapped denial around himself like a shield. “She never said she didn’t want to! As soon as she did — by pulling a knife on me, by the way — I stopped. That was the first time she ever said no, I swear.”

“You’re supposed to stop before she feels the need to pull the knife.” I forced myself to take a deep breath, to speak properly rather than through clenched teeth. “Did she ever once say she wanted to kiss you? No, she didn’t. And what’s more, let me tell you what she was saying, while you weren’t listening.”

And tell him I did. His protestations started off strong, but quickly faded, becoming less frequent as I named all the ways he’d managed to stuff this up. Not through any sort of malice, I was beginning to see, but rather through sheer obliviousness. Not that it was a good reason for making her so uncomfortable, so scared, that she’d felt the need to pull weapons on him. Nor did it excuse him for treating her culture without respect, a matter that took several tries to get through his thick skull. But it certainly explained some things.

By the time I ran out of words — and mental energy — the sun was beginning to rise, casting an orange glow through the open window. He sat in his desk chair, pulled out from the desk so he could face me, staring down at the hands laying limp in his lap.

“I had no idea,” he finally managed to get out, his words thick as if they were being forced out around a block in his throat. “When you say it like that I should have, but I just — I didn’t realize.”

He reached behind him to where his phone was charging on the desk. As he tapped at the screen, my exhausted mind scrambled to catch up with the situation.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m apologizing,” he said, staring at me wide-eyed as if this was obvious. “If she’s still sleeping, I’ll leave a message, but I have to tell her I’m sorry for screwing up so bad.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” I snapped, stepping forward to snatch the phone from him. He leaned back, pushing it across the desk out of my reach, but held his hands up in the air to signal a truce.

“Alright, geez! I just don’t know what you want me to do, here.”

“What you’ll do is you stay away from her,” I said, folding my arms back across my chest. I’d been doing that so much tonight that they were starting to feel sore. “If she wants to talk to you again — and she messages you first! — then you can apologize. But after what you did, you’ve lost the privilege to contact her. Is that clear?”

My question hung in the air between us, tension rising until he broke it with a single nod, letting his hands fall back to his lap. I stepped back, dropping my own arms as well. I wish I could say the tension drained entirely from the room, but that would be a lie; he watched me, wary like a dog who’d gotten into the rubbish and wasn’t sure if the scolding was over yet or not.

“Good,” I said, failing to come up with anything better to say. “Let’s not have to repeat this talk.”

With that I turned, leaving through the same window I’d come in by. As I flew off into the damp, rapidly-warming air, I sighed. There was so much drama happening all the time. Wasn’t this supposed to be a game? What had happened to that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bridget no. I mean, some parts yes, but overall...no. You're Sylphing things you have no business Sylphing. People talk about the destroyer classes(Bard and Prince), but Sylph is truly the stealth destroyer.
> 
> This matter isn't laid entirely to rest, but the bulk is behind us. Future chapters will reference back, especially regarding Bridget's actions in this chapter, but most of the discussion of the actual event that happened by the waterfall should be over.
> 
> TL;DR: Bridget goes to sleep and leaves Prospit by air, flying through the Medium to LOFAR. She wakes Greg up and explains to him exactly where he went wrong. He seems to understand, but she stops him from apologizing to Miyong, telling him he is not to contact her. Bridget leaves.


	46. Natalya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1/1/21 update

A cloud of dust billowed in my wake, consuming the others as I raced ahead. It was their fault for being so slow! Dan had needed to stay on LOQAG to watch Mimi, and Charlie had been a downer as usual, but the other three were here for the big showdown. I was so excited that I couldn’t have waited if I’d wanted to! You didn’t get to take on the Echo of Yaldabaoth every day.

This was only the beginning. Once I defeated him, I would have to face the Echoes of all the other planet’s denizens in turn, culminating in a rematch back here on LODAS. That time, I’d be facing the real deal. By then, of course, I’d be much stronger, with a whole arsenal of weapons at my disposal. Right now I only had the one sword, the one I’d entered with, sheathed at my waist. For today, though, it would be more than enough.

“Slow down!” Kayla’s anxious voice came from behind me as I reached the bottom of a staircase, steps hewn from the rock wall leading up around the gently curving cliff. I looked back, waving to the three of them as they rounded the corner, then turned and started up the stairs.

“Nat! Wait!” Leaving her frustrated call behind, I took the stairs two at a time, stopping only once I’d reached the top. Breathing heavily from the rush, I rested my hands on my thighs for support as I surveyed the area. The circular plateau was flat and featureless, with no markers to guide my hunt. Had I made a wrong turn somewhere? No, the stairs had been there, just like in the vision my sprite had granted me. This had to be the place. But how was I supposed to trigger the boss encounter?

As I’d hesitated, unsure of my next step, the others had reached the top of the stairs. Kayla was in front, using her staff to propel herself up and over the uneven ground. Just behind her came Alex and Jamie, empty-handed, though I wasn’t worried for them; I knew Alex was a quick draw, and Jamie only had to raise his fists. Turning back to the empty space before me, I brushed a long lock of hair behind my ear as I considered the situation.

“What now?” Alex called out, breathless from the ascent. Why were they always so impatient? I didn’t answer, taking slow, careful steps forward across the stone expanse. I crossed about a meter’s length of weird lines in the rock, a series of shallow grooves encircling the hilltop, as I approached the center. Those, too, had been in my vision. I only wished I knew what they were for.

“Nat!” This time it was Kayla calling, again. “There’s nothing here. I thought you said we had to help you fight a boss?”

I looked back over my shoulder, motioning for her to stay where she was, back by the top of the stairs. There would be a boss here, I was sure of it. I just had to find the trigger that would let it spawn. Even as that thought crossed my mind, my left foot landed on something different. I hopped back before I could stumble, and kneeled down to check the ground. Pressing my hand against the rock, I felt that it was softer, almost spongy, in this one spot — no bigger than my fist — at the very center of the plateau.

I straightened, giving a single nod to myself. I knew what to do. Unsheathing my blade, I gripped the hilt with both hands and raised the sword above my head. Before anyone could ask me what I was doing, I brought it straight down upon the weak point in the rock, allowing myself to fall to one knee as I penetrated nearly to the hilt with a single, decisive stroke. Behind me, I heard Jamie say something to the others, but his words were lost in the scrape of steel on stone. Using the heel of my hand, I hammered the blade the rest of the way in, until the hilt lay flush against the ground. Then, I grasped it tight, and pulled.

My blade came free in an explosion of rock and dirt, knocking me back on my ass. Shielding my eyes from the flying dust, I strained my ears to hear above the sudden roar of wind around me. Someone — a girl, Kayla — was screaming. I rolled to my knees and pushed myself up to look back. A whirling wall of dust greeted me, blocking my view of whatever was happening back at the stairs.

Oh. Those grooves made much more sense now, carved by the dust storm that surrounded the entire plateau, forming a neat little arena free of distraction and outside interference. The three of them were on their own, as was I. The ground quaked beneath me as I tried to stand, nearly sending me toppling again. I staggered to the side, managing just barely to keep my feet. Something was moving beneath me. Something massive.

The Echo of Yaldabaoth.

He burst from the ground before me, showering me with chunks of rock as he ascended high into the air. A blinding light shone from above, forcing my eyes to narrow as I beheld his form: crimson flesh, pulsing and twitching as the worm reared up above his hole. In place of a head was the source of the light, a great brilliance that allowed only the slightest shadow beneath where I cowered.

**DO YOU SURRENDER, KNIGHT?**

“Fuck you!” I replied. We both knew it hadn’t been a real question. I forced myself back to my feet, squinting to protect my vision. It was like looking into the sun! I knew better than to look straight at his head, focusing my eyes instead on the lower part of his body.

In response, a piercing shriek cut through the air, a sound designed to stun and disorient. A sound I was ready for, refusing to allow myself to be distracted at this crucial moment. Muscles bunched as he moved. I dodged, spinning away as he slammed down where I’d stood half a second earlier. Dust rose into the air, choking me and clouding my vision. Dropping into a guard stance, I moved away from the point of impact, waiting with caution for my opponent’s next move.

The attack came hard and fast, a blur of light speeding toward me. I raised my sword to meet it, closing my eyes to protect them. The blade caught against something I couldn’t see, threatened to leave my grip; I swore and twisted my strike away before I lost my weapon, landing only a glancing blow. So much for taking out the head. He was just too strong. I’d have to cut him down another way.

Dodging his next attack, I darted in close, letting my momentum carry my blow. The blade struck true, but rather than cutting through flesh it merely skittered along the surface, deflected by his thick hide. Maybe if I used the point rather than the edge, but I’d need to come from a different angle—

**THIS IS ONLY A SHADOW OF MY POWER.**

“Shut up!” I screamed at the voice. It spoke through my entire being, spreading its blistering echo from my brain down every nerve, scrambling my thoughts and numbing my movements. I hated it.

That shriek came again, shaking the ground and stealing my breath. I couldn’t see a thing, but I heard him begin to move above me. He was going to slam me again! I stumbled to the side, swinging wildly overhead. My sword caught his hide and this time it stuck, wrenched away from my grip with the force of his blow. Shit!

I fell to my knees as the ground quaked harder, a deep bellow echoing through the air around me. Rain was falling in thick, hot drops that stank and burned where they fell upon my skin. No, not rain! Blood. He was wounded. I staggered to my feet, wiping his blood from my hands. Where was my sword?

I stumbled blindly through the dust, searching in vain for my lost weapon. I hadn’t heard it fall, but he’d been making a lot of noise after all, the shocked betrayal of a great being wounded for the very first time in its immortal life. Too bad, so sad. I knew that if my blade had come free then it would have landed over here, on the far side of the arena.

**YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THE SEED.**

“Your mother wasn’t worthy either, but here you are anyway!” I blustered defiance even as I struggled to regain equal ground. No matter what else happened, I needed that seed. And he was going to slam me again for sure, any second now. At least that sound would warn me before—

My foot came down on hard metal. I tripped forward as it skittered away along the ground, just barely catching myself before I could fall, and reached for what I’d stepped on. Sharp pain sliced through my finger as I found my blade. Grinning to myself, I ran my fingers along the flat until I’d found the hilt and hefted it even as the deafening shriek sounded once again. This time, I would be ready.

Rather than dodging, I stepped forward into the attack, thrusting my blade up and out. A shower of blood drenched me as the mortal wound opened and his lifeless body began to fall. For one horrible moment I thought I would be crushed beneath the dead weight, but I ducked aside, letting the worm’s corpse land heavily on the ground next to me.

Now that the threat had been put down, my body allowed the pain back in. His blood soaked through my clothes, burning all it touched. I gasped, gritting my teeth against the sudden, blistering assault, but refused to let it control me. I wasn’t done yet. Right now I had to finish what I’d come here to do. I could suffer later.

Shivering, I fell to my knees beside the worm. I’d seen this moment in the vision my sprite had shared with me. I knew what to do. I took a deep breath to steel myself against the agony I knew would come, then plunged my arm deep into the steaming wound. A strangled cry escaped my clenched jaw as the heat closed around my bare arm, like the deepest, hottest flames caressing my skin. My hand closed around an object, hard and round, about the size of an apple. The seed.

I ripped it from the Echo of Yaldabaoth’s corpse and staggered to my feet. The dust had settled while I’d been occupied with looting, the whirlwind barrier reduced to a light gust that failed to rise above my knees. Turning, I saw three dust-caked figures by the stairs, the two smaller ones hanging onto the larger one — Welshboy, of the curly hair — all with horrified expressions on their faces.

I lurched toward them, wincing as the wind brushed my exposed skin, raw where the blood had burned me. Everywhere. Someone was laughing at me, a crazed howl that kept rising in pitch as the corners of my vision began to fade. Wait. That someone was me. I couldn’t stop, seizing with uncontrollable heaves of laughter even as the void closed in around me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to imagine you get a style bonus on your next attack for trash talking your enemies, and double the bonus if it involves insulting their mother. Natalya was Russian from the start, there was no other nationality she could have been, but if for whatever reason I needed to find another Knight of Life to take her place I would have looked to Brazil, because from no other country have I found gamers so skilled in trash talking. There's a reason most of the Portuguese I used to know was insults...
> 
> A Knight is someone who uses their aspect offensively, or otherwise weaponizes it. It's fairly straightforward. More interestingly, an old fan theory is that the Knight's aspect is one which their session lacks. The beta kids' session was greatly accelerated, lacking Time, the alpha trolls' session suffered from infighting, lacking a strong foundation of Blood loyalty among the team, and the beta trolls' were kind of clueless doofs as far as the game went, lacking the influence of Mind in their strategy. Similarly, the green team's session lacks Life, manifesting primarily in the barren states of their planets, though this is also why they don't have consorts. It touches their session in other ways, though I'm not going to explain them here.


End file.
